Meet the Support
by FuelsTheComedy
Summary: RED messengers descended into the pits of society to rummage through the outcasts and criminals to pick out the perfect men for the job. By summer, nine trained killers had accepted the terms of their contracts and soon became a psychopathic, dysfunctional little family. Three members of the 'family' however, have a harder time getting along.
1. Chapter 1

_**1**_

"Sniper."

"Wot?" The Spy messaged his temples with a look of exaggerated disgust as the Sniper stood to the side with his back facing him.

"We are in an infirmary – a place where the injured come to be cleaned up and treated. Stop pissing in a jar!" The Sniper just shrugged nonchalantly.

"I gotta go."

"Right now?"

"Well, yeah." The Spy ran his hand down his own face. They began to bicker quietly and soon their voices grew louder, echoing around the spacey, white-tiled room. Before long they were having a full blown argument about Snipers hygiene and social etiquette, or lack thereof.

"Can ze two of you behave like adults for once?" The Medic grumbled over his shoulder as he stitched up a wound on the Heavy's shoulder, his huge patient shook his head at the quarrelling pair.

"He throws jars of piss at people and lives in a van, what can you expect?" There was a short pause as the Sniper went through all of the different things he could insult the Frenchman with, he had a rather extensive list by now too, but anything witty left him for the moment.

"Wanka."

"Dumbbell."

"Ze pair of you. _Shut up_." Finished with the Heavy, the Medic patted him on the shoulder to indicate he could leave.

"Thank you, Doctor." The huge Russian slid off the table and pulled his shirt back on, rubbing his injury with a grateful smile. He nodded to his teammates before hauling up his enormous mini-gun and taking his leave. He usually hung about the infirmary to keep the doctor company while he cleaned up as he was the only mercenary that Medic could tolerate for long, but he never stayed while Medic was working with patients.

"Come along, Spy." The slimmer man limped over and hopped onto the table, pulling up the leg of his pants to reveal a bloody self-bandaged injury. Without saying a word, the Medic cut off the filthy rag and set about cleaning and stitching it. Having relieved himself, the Sniper gave his rough hands a brief wash in a nearby sink before walking up to peer at the Medics working hands.

"Bloody hell."

"It is not that bad." Spat the Spy.

"Not yer wound, yer leg – s'like a bloody chicken bone." The Medic turned to give the Sniper a 'don't start' look, so the lanky sharpshooter wiped the smirk from his own face, glancing around the infirmary. When Medic resumed his work, the Spy shot the Australian a smug look.

"Now, zis may hurt a little." The Medic chuckled. "Nein, nein just kidding. It will hurt allot."

The look faded and the Spy paled, though the Sniper was grinning again. The Frenchman glared at him.

"You are next."

Aw, piss.

* * *

"Go, go, go!"

"In the ditch! Down! Get down!"

"Incoming!"

BOOM!

"Goddamn it!" The Sniper had to flee his nest through a window when the BLU Soldier's rocket came hurdling towards it. Injuring his leg in the fall, he scrambled for his rifle which had landed a few feet away.

"Vere ist Heavy!?" the Medic yelled over the commotion from nearby as he took cover behind a blackened brick wall. His hair and clothes where dishevelled and dirty, but his expression remained calm.

"I dunno!"

"Sniper! Medic! Get away from there!" It was the Engineer, who was a short but safe distance away, waving at them frantically and holding his bleeding, injured ribs. "Ya'll needa get away now!"

"Shit! Go! Move out! Move out!" The Sniper snatched up his rifle and limped with adrenaline pumped legs alongside Medic as the BLU Demoman sent a wave of bombs their way. The incurring explosion that followed shook the very ground and knocked the Australian and the German off their feet, and the glasses from the Medics face. "Gah!"

"Bloody pikers!" The Sniper spat out a wad of blood but from his low position he caught sight of his BLU counterpart in the building across the field; he was aiming for the RED Heavy who had just appeared and was running towards the injured Engineer. "Heavy, no! there's a-" too late. The BLU snipers bullet shot right through the Heavy's shoulder, causing him to roar and tumble forward, dropping his beloved mini-gun with a _clank_.

"Shit! Heavy's down! Medic, It's a Sniper! Third window from the left!"

"Cova me!" The Medic ran through a hail of bullets that rained down on him as the RED Sniper backed off and took aim. Steady, steady.

BANG!

"One sniper to another, mate! Give up!" His BLU counterpart was hit right between the eyes, falling from his nest gracelessly.

"Nice shot." Shit. He hadn't even heard the figure approach him from behind. The pain that followed half a second later was barely numbed by the adrenaline that coursed through him as the BLUs butterfly knife was rammed into his back and a gloved hand curled under his chin like a snake to stop him from jerking away. He hissed in pain as his attacker whispered in his ear mockingly.

"My apologise, mademoiselle"

Then, his world went dark.

* * *

The Sniper awoke in the Infirmary, though nobody else was present. His head was spinning.

"Hullo?"

'Crrooo'

Slowly, he peered up to see half a dozen doves staring down at him with beady black eyes. They were creepy little things, he always thought.

'Crrooo' The largest – Medics favourite – was called Archimedes and cocked it's little head to the side as if asking a question. Croo?

"Wot?"

Croo croo

"Er …"

"Ah gut, you are avake." The Sniper jumped when the Medic suddenly appeared in the doorway. His white coat was gone, as were his gloves and he leaned against the door frame.

"Yer doves are starin' at me." The German just snorted and clicked his fingers, Archimedes was over and snugly perched on his shoulder a second later.

"It iz late, zey are not used to company at zis hour."

"Late? How can it be late I was only just bloody-"

"It iz nearly midnight."

"Eh?" He blinked dumbly. "EH!?"

"Ze Spy zat killed you, he had smeared a rather potent poison on his butterfly knife – you've been out cold for hours."

"Stupid bloody spies."

"Hm, yes. Speaking of vhich, our own Spy waz ze one who found and carried you back here. I know zat you two rarely see eye to eye, but maybe you vould do vell to thank him zis once, ja?"

First shock, then distrust and then nearly undetectable gratitude spread across his face. The Spy had carried him all the way back to the infirmary? He'd never trusted the Spy, in fact he didn't even like him but they were teammates and had saved each other necks a bunch of times. Mercenaries didn't have to get along; they just had to work together. But maybe it was time to start over fresh with his French colleague?

Yes, thought the Sniper, tomorrow after the battle he would find the Spy and thank him, and propose that they put all of their differences behind them once and for all. Hell, they had more in common than most people thought, both being skilled assassins and all, perhaps they could even be mates?

* * *

The next day after the battle, the sound of enraged but muffled voices gradually grew louder and clearer until the doors leading to the Support hall burst open and the vicious exchange between the Spy and the Sniper could be heard clearly.

"Come on, mate!"

"I cannot talk to you. I cannot even look at you right now!"

The Medic had stopped fastidiously cleaning his instruments to turn and stare at his closed room door, listening as the two men on the other side entered the adjacent room – Spy's room – and continued to holler over one another.

"It wos an accident!"

"Just get away from me, you repulsive-"

"But-"

"In fact, why are you even in here? Get out of my room!"

"Hold on a bloody min-"

"I said leave! Now!"

"No! I wonna stay – we needa talk about this!"

"Ça va!" The sound of Spy slamming his door shut shook through to Medics room, causing the old painting that hung on his wall to rattle but it did not lessen the volume of his neighbour's furious voice. "Fine, so you mistook me for him!?"

"Not like-"

"You thought I was that, that amateur!?"

Sniper remained silent, a look of guilty, opened-mouthed helplessness on his face.

"Come on then! You said that you wanted to talk about it – so let's talk about it!" His French accent thickened when he was this riled. "You think that we are so similar - you would mistake me for him!?"

"Well … you, I mean – yer _kinda_ similar."

Medic grimaced as the situations began to form inside his mind; he could just imagine the profound abhorrence twisting Spy's features beneath his mask right now.

"You disgust me!"

"M'sorry, okay, m'sorry! I'm disgusted with meself right now! But honestly, I didn't think it wos you!"

"You threw _piss_ at me!"

"I-"

"You _filthy_-"

"Look I said I wos sorry o'right! It wos an accident; I didn't know it wos you, I mean, you were cloaked! How wos I supposed to know?!"

"Inexcusable! My suit is ruined! I 'ad to walk back 'ere reeking of piss!"

Sniper tried so hard to control himself but he just couldn't help the grin that forced its way onto his face. When Spy caught sight of the corners of his lips perking up, his own face blackened with rage.

"I _hate_ you!"

"Oh come on mate! Don't be like that!"

But it was too late, rather than wait for the Australian to leave, the Spy turned on his heel and furiously marched out of his own room, wrenching open the door and slamming it behind him. One of the paintings on Medics wall came loose and tumbled to the floor. Sniper heaved a sigh.

"Piss."

Medic listened to the sound of Spy's fancy shoes clicking passed the room, swearing quietly but frantically under his breath in French. Through the wall, Sniper could also be heard cursing to himself. The good Doctor grinned maliciously, despite his ruined painting.

"Bickering like an old married couple," he shook his head to himself. "Dummkopf."


	2. Chapter 2

_**2**_

The Spy was not particularly fond of his teammates – they were simply a part of his job description and thus, had to be tolerated. Where the rest of his dysfunctional little 'family' had been drawn in and made to feel somewhat at home with one another, the Frenchman choose to remain separate. Even the Sniper, who was known for isolating himself from the rest of the world, made more of an effort with the other members of RED than Spy did.

Shuddering, Spy recalled the "Jarate incident" from a few days ago with his Australian colleague. What kind of filthy, unrefined freak would throw piss at people anyway? He was surrounded by utter fools. The youngest and, debatably, the most irritating of the pack currently trotted alongside him. Somehow Spy had managed to find himself tasked with the responsibility of driving Scout out here, though he wasn't exactly sure how that came about.

"S'this house here, don't go all Frenchie on me an' run away while I'm gone."

"Mhm."

Spy watched as Scout hopped over the small iron fence and skipped up the few crumbling steps to the front door of the Boston house. The boy entered without knocking, and the call of 'Ma, it's me!' echoed from behind the creaky door. Spy had agreed to drive the runt of RED to Boston while they were stationed just an hour's drive away, if for no other reason than simply to get away from the rest of the team while they bickered about their recent loss. Between Soldiers yelling, Demos drunken crying and Snipers angry accusations Spy needed to get away.

As he stood outside the worn out old Bostonian house, he wondered why he hadn't just driven out to somewhere more welcoming – without Scout yakking away in his passenger seat. Nonetheless, what was done was done. Spy lit a cigarette and took to leaning against a nearby wall.

* * *

"Bullshit."

"Language" Scouts mother removed his cap and cuffed him over the head, sitting his hat gently on the table "and no hats at the table."

"I'm 22 years old ma!"

"Ya can be 52 for all I care, m'still your mother and I'll have no cussing in my house." Before Scout could protest – not that he would dare –the doorbell rang. His mother, who was usually so self-assured, looked momentarily disgruntled before shaking her head and quickly clearing the table of dishes.

"Go upstairs, hon."

"Huh? Who'sat?"

"Your father, now go on."

"Wha? Why the hell's he here, ma!?"

"He's here to get what he's owed." A large man was now hovering in the archway leading to the dining room, having let himself in. He was twice the size of his youngest son but had his blue eyes – though they were bloodshot from inebriation. Scout got to his feet and glared at him.

"Y'can't just walk in here! You-"

"Don't start." His mother's voice was stern. "Go upstairs." She began to usher him out.

"Yeah, listen to your momma, boy. Go on – get."

"I ain't leavin' you alone with this guy, ma, no way!" Scout stood fast, not allowing his mother to shoo him as he pointed an accusing finger at his father. "The hell's goin' on!?"

"She ain't told ya?" The older man smiled an ugly lopsided sneer and he reeked of beer. "Here, let me then. Your Ma's been keepin' in contact with ol' papa here for quite some time. Can't raise eight kids on your own now, can you? Y'see, she been livin' offa daddy's hand outs for the past few year-"

"All I asked," Scouts mother slammed her palms down onto the table "_all_ I asked was that you leave the boy's outta this!"

"Leave 'em out? Sweetheart, they ain't boys no more – they're _men_; men that my money's been feedin'! If you ain't gonna give me my money, then one'a them will!" He took a threatening step forward as his voice raised and Scout instinctively manoeuvred himself to stand between the huge man and his mother protectively.

"Back off."

"Ooo looky here, you got something to say, sonny?" Before another word was spoken, His mother pushed him aside.

"I have it, I have it!" She took a wad of money from her purse and threw it at him. "Now get outta my house!" But the wad of money hit him square and the face and he went purple with rage.

"You fuckin' bitch!" Scout was on him like a shot, jumping up to aim a punch at his father's jaw that stumbled him backwards into the hallway.

"Don'chu talk to her like dat!"

"No! Don't-" Scouts mother watched in horror as her ex-husband came barrelling back into the room, lifting their son by the throat and punching him so hard that his head bobbed momentarily like a dashboard toy. Giving no time to recover, his father threw him down onto the glass coffee table, shattering it.

"NO! LEAVE HIM-" She tried to grab for her son protectively but was shoved away; at that Scout was up again and he saw red, punching his father hard enough to break his nose. The huge man roared out in a voice that would make Heavy proud before spinning in a fury, pummelling into his son and throttling him as he hammered blow after blow into his face. His mother lay on the glass covered floor screaming hysterically.

Suddenly appearing behind the huge man as he beat Scout senseless, the Spy uncloaked in a faint cloud of smoke and grabbed his big shoulders, hurling him across the room with ease. In the blink of an eye, Spy was on him; punch after punch until he had the larger man on his knees – the Frenchman may have been shorter, but he was _stronger_.

Scout sat in a bloodied daze, half-watching with wide eyes and a hanging jaw as Spy dealt a savage beating to his father. When the mercenary was done with the assault, he pulled out his butterfly knife and held it to his throat, growling a low threat into his ear. Then he let him slump to the floor, dusting off his suit casually as the massive man fell in a bewildered panic out of the house.

"Sorry to pop in unannounced." He brought out his metallic case as if nothing had just occurred. Then, sensing danger, he spun swiftly and caught the wrist of Scouts mother who had come at him with a kitchen knife.

"W-wait, ma! He's – _argh_ – I work with him!" Scout pulled himself into a semi-standing position, using a nearby chair to hold himself up. "We work together ma!"

Smiling like a fox, Spy gently removed the kitchen knife from her hand and then turned her wrist to lean down and softly kiss her knuckles.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, _mademoiselle_."

* * *

After Scout's mother had calmed down, she spoke with her son privately in the kitchen as Spy stood in the wrecked living room, glancing between the photos of Scout and his brothers on the walls. He really was a goofy looking kid. Eventually, Scout remerged – his face severely swollen from his beating earlier.

"C'mon."

Without arguing, Spy nodded politely to Scouts mother who appeared to see them off. As they walked down the dumpy, vandalised street neither spoke at first.

"Don't … don't tell the guys 'bout dis."

"I do not think that I will 'ave to. They are going to enquire as to 'ow your face became so … _colourful_."

"So I tell 'em I got in a fight, big woop. Jus' don't tell 'em you saw nothin' else, a'right?" Spy eyed the boy with a sideway glance, mild concern evident beneath his balaclava.

"As you wish." He opened the door of his car and got in; once they were on the road the Frenchmen toyed with the Idea of asking Scout about his father. No, thought the Spy - despite the boy's age and any protective feelings he may feel, they were just colleagues.

Just _colleagues_.

He would ask no personal questions, and he would not get personally attached. And so, the drive back to base was silent.

* * *

"Allow me to apologise for monstrosity that is our colleague." Spy stood indolently, leaning on one leg with a cigarette hanging leisurely from his lips. When Medic looked up from his desk, the Frenchman motioned to Sniper, who had trailed in behind him with his head down, covered in dirt and nursing a broken wrist. Medic arched an eyebrow.

"Not ze first time you have had to, iz it?"

"Not a surprise?"

"Nein."

"Standin' right here, lads" Sniper shifted uncomfortably, his voice flat.

"I doubt it will be the last time."

"Certainly not." Medic agreed.

"You know what 'e is like, 'as the grace of a 'eadless chicken."

"Ja."

"Again - _right here_ - Jus' sayin'." His teammates finally turned to acknowledge the indignant Australian, eyeing him with mischievous glee. Crazy, European bastards.

"It will probably be best if we just leave 'im outside in the future, yes?"

"Ja, he always trails in dirt."

"Doc!"

"Oh it iz nothing personal, Sniper." Medic pushed his glasses up his nose with a wry smirk. "You all irritate me equally."

"You break my 'eart, doctor." Spy said in mock anguish, clutching his chest for dramatic effect as Medics grin became a devious smile.

"M'waitin' outside." Sniper turned to leave.

"He _does_ learn."

"Faster zan one vould expect!" They began to laugh as the Snipers face went red.

"Bloody wankas!"

"Relax mein freund," Medic chuckled. "Just because Scout has left us for ze day does not mean you have to fill his shoes taking tantrums." At the mention of the boy's name, Spy noted his absence from the day's battle.

"Where is the little runt?" He tried to sound indifferent.

"Mrh, zomething came up at home zis morning. He rushed off without saying much – for once. Family emergency I vould imagine." Spy's heart unexpectedly skipped a beat. He turned to Medic and tried to keep his voice and facial expression unreadable.

"He went to 'is mother's?"

"Ja." Though Medic was too uninterested to notice, Snipers keen eye caught Spy's worry and he re-entered the room.

"Wot's happened?" Spy had told the boy he'd keep quiet, but then again everyone knows that Spy's lie. Although he'd never admit it out loud, Spy was worried about Scout. He had become … familiar with his presence around the base.

"There was a … incident yesterday." Both Medic and Sniper were looking at him expectantly now. "It involved Scout and 'is father."

* * *

Scouts face was destroyed – not a tooth remained in his crushed mouth as he lay at his father's feet. The whole world seemed to slow to a halt as the Sniper surveyed the situation. Before he could issue the command to his lanky legs, he was sprinting over and hammering savagely into one of the six men in the room – baring his jagged teeth like the animals he was so fond of tracking. Apparently the father had been expecting Scout to show up with the rest of his big brothers and had brought along a bunch of thugs to beat on his own offspring.

What a messed up family.

Yeah, the REDs were just as messed up – more so actually - but while they were not related by blood, each and every one of them had become brothers on the battlefield. A family was not a group of people who were tied by blood – they're a group of people bonded by trust. The Scout was no blood relation of theirs, but he was still their brother and the men who had hurt him were going to pay dearly.

These thugs were very lucky that only Spy, Sniper and Medic had come because if Soldier or, God forbid, the Heavy had seen the Scout like this they'd have made these poor bastards beg for death. As Spy and Sniper took out the gang, Medic tended to Scout who was so horrifically beaten that he was recognisable only by his trademark dog tags.

"Ve need to get him back to ze base! Only my medi-gun can heal zis."

Spy crossed the room to crouch by him and nodded in understanding before scooping the younger man up. Sniper finished with the last thug before turning to look at them, blood splattered over his face and shirt. One of the thugs had gotten in a good swing and Snipers cheek was puffing up.

"C'mon, we'll drive there in me van – I'll get us there in no time." Scout was drifting in and out of consciousness now; his limp hand lifted itself to tug at the front of Spy's suit, smearing it with blood. The Frenchman took no notice. "Let's go."

* * *

"Ugh-w-where'm I?" The damn lights were blinding him.

"You are in the infirmary." Scout stared at Spy with bleary eyes for a bit before blinking rapidly until his vision came rippling back into focus.

"My ma-"

"Is fine; she does not know that you went after your father. She thinks you 'ave been at work all day."

"Az you should have been." It was Medic, appearing from behind Spy. "Velcome back."

"Doc-"

"Save ze excuses," He held out a gloved hand to silence the young man. "I know what happened."

"We all do." That was Sniper, who had been standing silently nearby. Scout glared at Spy and almost began to yell at him.

"It is a good thing that they did know - I would not 'ave been able to save you by myself this time."

"Ja, you are very lucky to be alive, Scout."

"When I arrived at your mother's 'ouse," Spy began as he lit a cigarette "she told me you 'ad stopped by to give 'er money before returning to work. Of course, I knew that you 'ad gone after your father so I used my connections to locate him." He nodded to his 'connection' – the Sniper – who had used his expertise in tracking to follow Scout's fathers movements.

"… didn't expect 'em to bring nobody." Scout lowered his head, pouting.

"He didn't expect you _not_ to." Sniper approached him and gave a friendly, light punch on the arm. The three older men were expecting a macho 'up yours!' from the young man but instead he just sat there on the bed with his eyes glued to the floor. He still had some bruising but other than that, only his pride was damaged. After a long moment, he glanced up.

"Only you three know 'bout dis?"

"Oui."

"... thanks."

A feeling of almost fatherly-protectiveness was shared; the three older mercenaries couldn't even bring themselves to mock the boy in such a rare moment of vulnerability.

"Don't mention it, kid"

"Hey Frenchie," Scout looked up. "Y'carried me back here?"

"Oui."

A little sparkle twinkled in Scouts eye."Then jus' so ya know, your suit still smells like piss."

Spy shot Sniper a curt, venomous glare before storming out of the infirmary and just like that – harmony was restored. Tomorrow would just be another day


	3. Chapter 3

_**3**_

"Nngh-who is it!?"

"Dad?"

"Who!?"

"Dad, it's me-"

"Oh! It's you is It!? Ya still a crazed gunman!?"

"I'm a, tch, not a 'crazed gunman' Dad, I'm an assassin!"

"The bloody difference bein'!?"

"Well, the difference bein' one is a job and the other's mental sickness!"

"Me an yer mother never raised no bloody crazed gunman! We raised y'up good an' proper, we did!"

"Dad-"

"When y'ran off to live in the damn outback like some unholy bloody hermit-"

"Dad put-"

"You know what I said to yer mother!?"

"Yeah, put-"

"Said yer be goin' straight to hell, boy!"

"_Put mum on the phone!_ "

Sniper's phone call to the Mundy residence played out the way it always did; ten minutes of listening to his father piss and moan, not letting him speak with his mother. He always gave up trying and eventually said he had to return to work, slamming the phone down as his old man continued to yell down line. He'd just write his mum a postcard later or something.

"Sniper-"

"Jesus Christ!" He spun around "Don't sneak up on me like that Doc, damn near loped yer head off!" right enough, Snipers hand had went instantly to his kukri which was now pressed against Medics throat.

"Indeed." The German gave the blade an unsavoury look before pushing it away with one finger. "I need to take some blood from you."

"Wot? Why?"

"You are ze only man on ze team vith type O negative blood."

"Someone needin' a transplant?"

"…. let's say yes."

Sniper opened his mouth to enquire but when Medic smiled mischievously, he shut hiits mouth again and began to walk to the infirmly in silent, uneasy compliance. He didn't want to know.

"Your blood type iz very rare you know, not just among RED, but universally!" The doctor always got excited when blood was the topic of conversation.

"S'fascinatin."

"I could do allot vith your blood."

"Ya get a _sample_, mate. Better not bloody drain me." The Medic grinned as he walked with the taller man.

"I promise."

Later, the Spy stood in the infirmly, smoking absent-mindedly as he looked over Snipers unconscious form in the bed. He was as pale as a ghost, even his lips were white.

"Is 'e dead?"

"I have no idea." Medic was too distracted as he fiddled with his blood samples, like a child playing with a new toy. Honestly, he'd almost forgotten about the Sniper. Spy arched an eyebrow and gave the passed out Australian a little poke on the cheek.

"Nrgh…"

"Non, 'e is alive." He gave the stubbly cheek a few more inquisitive pokes.

"Mrh … piss off…" Sniper stirred in the bed as he mumbled incoherently under his breath, barely forming sentences. The Spy leaned over him to try and decipher what was being said but Snipers eyes suddenly shot open.

"CRIKEY!" he brought his hand up defensively, upper cutting the Spy's jaw. The Frenchmen staggered backwards and nearly swallowed his cigarette as he clutched his chin.

"_Mon dieu_, Bushman!" he spluttered, leaning over to rub his throat frantically.

"S'GOIN ON!?"

"You are in the infirmary, you eediot!"

"DOC!"

"… yes?"

"HOW MUCH BLOOD DID YA BLOODY TAKE FROM ME!?"

"Oh, Just a few pints."

"A FEW PINTS!?"

"Vell, four really." Sniper covered his face with his hands to try and comprehend this man. "I don't still _have_ all four pints; Archimedes got over excited and knocked over some of ze vials, so I had to take a little more." He chuckled and gave the dove a little tickle under the chin "You know how he gets excited."

"Y-you coulda _killed_ me ya crazy bastard!"

"... but you are alive." Medic said matter-of-fact, as if unable to understand Snipers problem.

"S'NOT THE POINT-"

"Forgive my interruption." The Spy cleared his throat, regaining his composure. "Doctor?"

"I said in a little vhile, Spy"

"Non," Spy growled. "_Now_." Sniper was surprised to hear the underlying viciousness in Spy's tone, and couldn't help but feel that he'd missed something while he was out. Spy was uncharacteristically stiff, and the two men stared at each other with hard expressions. Eventually, Medic blinked.

"Fine," he stood and pulled a key out of his white pocket. "Come vith me." He led Spy out of the room, leaving Sniper to sit in the bed to ponder, drained and confused.

Crroo

Sniper looked up; it was the damn doves again.

Croo crrooo

Archimedes feathers were bloodied as he blinked down at Sniper innocently with those beady little black eyes.

Crroooo?

"Yeah, yeah." The Australian narrowed his eyes at the bird in contemptful suspicion. When his teammates returned five minutes later, Spy was very serene looking; his eyes glazed over. Before Sniper could ask, Medic shoved a can of boink into his hands.

"For your sugar levels." He smiled, almost hiding all the crazy that lay beneath the surface, "Danke for your co-operation, feel free to donate again."

"You're insane." Medic just smiled at him as Spy left without saying a word, walking at a placid pace. "Hey, Doc?"

"Ja?"

"Wot d'you jus' give to Spook?" Medic paused, as if contemplating on how to reply. Archimedes landed loyally on his shoulder as if joining him in his musings.

"I cannot say. Doctor-patient confidentially."

"You ain't really a doctor, are ya mate?" again, the German just smiled.

* * *

"Victory!"

The end of the month brought joyous celebration as the REDs hadn't suffered a single loss at the hands of the BLUs for weeks. When Demo suggested they all have a drink to celebrate, nobody objected for once. They'd worked together for the better part of a year, but they'd never had a drink with all nine of them present before. The Support class in particular were usually very snappy with one another.

Everyone had their own preffered group; Sniper and Spy were the loners, avoiding the others most of the time. Heavy often kept Medic company when he wasn't tending to Sasha and Pyro shadowed Engie in the workshop most days. Demo and Soldier were always having a few beers together, often playing poker or watching football. The only one who seemed to have some social mobility was Scout, but the poor kid often found it tiresome trying to join in with their boring 'old-men's conversation'.

It took Demoman, soldier and Heavy to carry all the booze into the main hall and Engie put together an old record player for music. Eventually the drinking and socializing began and it didn't take long before Heavy started offering vodka to everyone.

Medic was not a sociable man. However, drunk Medic was the most talkative man Heavy had ever met. He spoke about anything and everything, occasionally slurring into his native German and talking about something that sounded really important, gesturing passionately as the Russian sat having no idea what the topic was. He spoke about the Medical school he went to, and then confessed he never _actually_ went to medical school. Then five minutes after that - he confessed that he did go to medical school - he just got kicked out after the "cadaver incident".

Heavy chose not to enquire.

Medic spoke at a pace to rival Scout as his half-lidded eyes stared off into nothing. His rambling soon became a part of the background music as he failed to realize Heavy was no longer listening. When the doctor – if he really was a doctor - almost fell off his chair, his huge friend caught him.

"Careful Doctor!"

"Aha, Oktoberfest!" The rest of the conversation was carried out entirely in German, so Heavy – who was still somewhat rusty with his English – nursed his vodka quietly. Behind them was Demo and Soldier who were what the Heavy liked to call _'love you- hate you'_ drunks. One minute they were arm in arm, rocking with each other affectionately as they confessed their undying manly-love for one another. The next, they were knocking the seven shades of crap out of each other, picking up chairs and roaring abuse at one another. Eventually, though, they'd be snuggly shoulder to shoulder again, blood leaking from various injuries as they laughed about their fight.

"Y'know Chyclops, I-I know Shcotlands a real country! Bet it's beau-beautiful there!"

"Auch I – _hic_ – I love ye man!"

"I love you too, private!"

Up on the make shift dance floor was Sniper – completely hammered - half-empty glass of whisky in hand as he spun around like a drunken ballerina to jazzy music, a goofy grin plastered on his face. He twirled and stumbled to every song that came on, each time announcing "I luv this one!" He managed to pull the odd dance partner up to join him but his long, drunken legs seemed to be empowered beyond what was humanly possible; nobody else managed to stay up with him for more than one song. Grand scheme in mind, Sniper stumbled up to the old record player with a drunken grin. A scratchy noise was followed by lyrics that tickled the ears of every man in the room.

_'We'llllll drink a drink a drink,_

_To lily the pink the pink the pink!'_

"Ooh!" Demos head spun to the record player.

"S'more like it, son!" Engie was on his feet already, a wide smile on his face.

_'The saviour of our human ra-a-ace,_

_For she invented, medicinal compound,_

_Most efficacious in every case!'_

Sniper clapped his hands to the beat as everyone stood, except heavy, who sat to observe the spectacle with a sober smile – all the lads got up and began to dance together, roaring out the lyrics in jolly, drunken sing-song.

_'Mr freers had sticky out ears,_

_And it made him awful sh-ha-hy,_

_And so they gave him, medicinal compound,_

_And now he's learning how to fly!'_

They all swayed arm in arm together as they stamped their feet and sung the chorus so loud that the talent of 'The Scaffold' was drowned out completely. Even Scout, who clearly didn't know the words, joined in.

_'We'll drink a drink a drink,_

_To lily the pink the pink the pink,_

_The saviour of our human ra-ha-ace,_

_For she invented, medicinal compound,_

_Most efficacious in every case!'_

Sniper wrapped an arm around Medic and Spy and pulled them close to sing along and everyone laughed and cheered. Heavy had noted earlier that things between the Support mercenaries had been far less hostile as of late, so to see the three of them having a bit of fun together caused his smile to grow fondly. Maybe something had happened recently? Once the song had finished, everyone returned to their seats laughing and clapping – except for Sniper of course, who miraculously managed to stay spinning about the dance floor.

When midnight arrived all of the sexual frustration that came with being a young man seemed to burst loose from Scout. He'd started off talking about his many grand sexual escapades until vodka number five hit him like a ton of bricks and he dramatically, and _loudly_, confessed that he was actually a 22 year old virgin. He sobbed drunkenly into his glass as he blubbered on about not having a woman because he was stuck out here with eight ugly, old bastards. Spy patted his back in a comforting fashion as he mocked the boy's virginity in soothing French.

"Vous pauvre, Scout…"

"I-I mean I thought there'd maybe 'least one chick out here! Like, like a nurse of sumthin'!?"

"Vous pauvre petite vierge."

"I know right!? Instead we got that crazy sonovabitch!" Scout pointed accusingly over at Medic, who was far too inebriated to notice. When another hit came on, the dance floor was filled again.

* * *

The early hours came and went, Heavy still sat with his vodka; enjoying the eventual silence. Everyone around him had passed out; Sniper had danced off to vomit in a corner before falling asleep sprawled on the floor. Medic fell asleep at the same table that propped up Spy and Scout. Demo and Soldier had fallen off their stools and were currently on the floor, drooling and snoring into their empty scrumpy bottles. Pyro was curled up by the record player. Engie stirred from his drunken slumber to the Heavy's right, rubbing his face.

"Holy mothera … what a night, huh?"

"Dah, was good night."He smiled and patted Engies shoulder.

"Time for breakfast!"

* * *

"Schweinehunde!" Medic swore at nothing in particular as he obsessively scrubbed at his scalpels, trying to distract himself from his deafening hangover.

Crroo

"Nein, you have already been fed." If doves could pout, Archimedes would be doing so.

Cro cro?

"Nein!" He removed his glasses to press his thumb and forefinger into his throbbing eyes. He'd danced. Oh God he'd danced and sang and spoke to those – those _imbeciles_. He'd told Heavy he didn't drink vodka but no; the Russian had insisted. Archimedes nipped incessantly at his ear, knowing the German didn't have the energy to keep denying him.

"Ach! Vas ist los!?"

Crrooo!

Swearing under his breath, Medic left his instruments to open up a bag of birdseed. In no time at all, he was surrounded by all of his doves who coo'd excitedly, flapping and fluttering around him.

"Doc …" Without turning, he knew it was the Sniper who just entered the room. He sighed loudly. "Doc, ya gotta help me..."

"It's called a hangover, Dummkopf. Get rest, drink fluids."

"Nah … somethin's wrong." There was the sound of boots scudding across the tiles and then a padded noise, like a large pillow being dropped to the floor. When Medic turned around, the Sniper was lying on the floor– and he wasn't breathing.

"Scheiße"


	4. Chapter 4

_**4**_

"-iper?"

"…mph…"

"-an you hear me?"

"….mrm."

"-ending up on my table far too often zhese days!"

"Wot…?" Snipers hearing gradually returned to him and he sat up with the stiffness of a much older man, squeezing his eyes shut.

"You've been attacked. Lay still." Medic pushed him back down with a cold, ungloved hand.

"A-attacked?"

"Ve have an intruder, but never mind zat. Ze others are taking care of it. Now, how many fingers do you see?" Medic held up three fingers. Wait, what? An intruder?

"I gotta-"

"_Fingers_!?"

"….six."

"Close enough." Satisfied the Australian wasn't going to die anytime soon, Medic pushed up his glasses and went about his business.

"Did y'say BLU had breached our defences?" Sniper pulled himself up into a semi-sitting position, locating and putting on his old hat with a grimace.

"Nein, ze Intruder does not seem to vork for BLU." Just as Sniper went to enquire, the doors to the infirmary burst open to reveal a very dishevelled looking Engineer and the Tex was a very hard man to fluster.

"We gotta get outta here fellas, this whole place is about to blow!"

"What!?" "Vhat!?"They yelled in perfect unison, jaws dropping.

"Ya'll heard me, now _move_!" As if on cue, the floor suddenly shook and a loud, thunderous roar growled throughout the halls and ran along the walls. Quickly, Medic clapped his hands and rushed to the window. His doves were fluttering around him as he uttered commands to them in frantic German. Opening the small, horizontal panel he waved them out –aside from Archimedes who perched stubbornly on his master's shoulder, refusing to leave him.

BOOM!

Something exploded behind Engineer, who tumbled unceremoniously off his feet. Sniper jumped off the bed to run to his colleague but staggered in the attempt.

"Gah, shit! I … I can't feel me legs!" grasping the side of the bed, he struggled to keep his footing. Medic ran to him and slung an arm over his shoulder, just managing to hoist the taller man up.

"Come on!" Engineer was on his feet again as blood tricked down over his goggles. "Lets g-"

BOOOM!

The explosion shook the very foundations of the building; large cracks drew along the floor like large, spiders legs. Making their way through the base, the rest of the team where hurrying about in the smoke trying to collect any items of importance – mainly their weapons. Heavy was carrying Sasha bridal style in a protective embrace when he spotted Medic.

"Doctor! We must go!" He nodded, his arm still tightly around Sniper. Archimedes was now perched on top the Australians hat, hiding his little face under his wings as dust rained down on them.

"Wait, where's Frenchie!?" Scout sprinted to the group, clutching his bat and several cans of bonk. A low, dangerous rumble sounded underfoot.

"He must be outside already!" Engineer hauled up a large tool box and made for the exit. "Come on, son!"

BOOOM!

"But-but what if he's not!?" Scout turned as if to run back towards Spys room to find him but the Frenchman suddenly uncloaked right beside him and grabbed his shoulder, pulling him away from the large, falling chunks of debris just before it crushed him.

"We must go." Scout gave him a suspicious look, but a blast over head jolted them and they began to run for the exit together as loose tiles began to fall around them.

KA-BOOM!

Another thundering blast clouded their vision completely as they ran blindly for the exit, inhaling burning smoke. Outside, all nine mercenaries were accounted for and they stood side by side to watch their base crumble and collapse into itself. In no time at all it was a huge, smoking pile of rubble. The entire building was destroyed. Engineer gave a low, long whistle.

"So … you boys up for a road trip?"

* * *

The Sniper hated his life.

Sat in his camper though not behind the wheel as he should have been, he sat between Spy and Medic, who was driving. He had a dove on each shoulder and Archimedes remained on his hat. He cursed his numbed legs as the rest of the doves 'croo'd', they were currently crapping all over the back of his van and their incessant chirping was magnified in volume due to the enclosed space. Sniper grit his teeth with a look of begrudged defeat, resigning himself to this temporary hell. They had taken off over twenty minutes ago, and the Spy was still laughing.

"You live in a _van_!" He burst into manic laughter anew, snorting and spluttering; even the doctor had a devilish smirk on his face. After a while, Spy wiped tears off mirth away before taking out his metallic case.

"Ye already bloody _knew_ about me camper."

"Yes, yes but it still gets me every time." He held the case out. "Cigarette?"

Both Sniper and Medic took up the offer and the three of them smoked in silence. They had gotten stuck together after Engineer took Demo and Heavy in his pick-up– Heavy and Sasha taking up all the space – While Pyro took Soldier and Scout in his pink fiat 124.

Oh How Sniper had tried to convince the others to at the _very_ least take the Spy. To no avail, the Support mercenaries were condemned to each other's company. Again. Soon, having three smokers in the small camper formed a thick cloud that caused the doves to sneeze and splutter.

"Open your window." Medic snapped.

"Non." Spy didn't give his reasons for not doing so. If he even _had_ a reason.

"Ze smoke is bothering Archimedes!"

"I think you care more about those birds than you do your patients."

"Of _course_ I care more about zem, I _like_ zem. Now open your window."

"I think not."

"I vill turn zis van around!"

"Fine."

"Fine." When Medic moved to tug hard on the wheel, Sniper shot out a hand to stop him.

"Lads," he sighed. "_Please_." Spy grinned at him before something at his feet caught his attention.

"... Bushman," he picked up the stuffed crocodile that was pushed far under his seat. "Do tell?"

"S'Harry."

"Harry?"

"Yeah, Harry." He stared at the ugly thing with a look of disturbed contemplation before poking it in the eye.

"Oi, give'im here!" Sniper snatched it back before Spy could offer it to him, dusting it off protectively.

"You really are just a big man-child, aren't you?" The taller man swore in retaliation but then something warm suddenly dropped onto Harry's back.

"Auch, Doc! Yer bloody birds are _crappin'_ all over the place!"

"Why don't you offer them a _jar_?" Both Medic and Spy began to snigger.

"Yer both keepin' yer mouths shut from here on, 'less you wanna walk."

* * *

They'd been on the road for hours by the time Engineer, whose pick-up had taken the lead, pulled over at the side of the road and waved for them to do the same. He removed his hard hat to wipe his injured forehead with his sleeve. A grim, tired expression fixed itself in place.

"Alright," he gave a deep sigh "So ya'll know we ain't too far from our westernmost base. I reckon we'll be there by midnight tomorrow if we get some shut eye now and head on out at sunrise."

"Yeah man, I'm freakin' sicka sittin' on my ass, lets get a fire goin' or somethin" Scout was stretching as four empty cans of bonk landed at his feet. Poor Pyro, having to share an automobile with Soldier and a bonked-up Scout.

"Mrgh mrmrgh." The masked man nodded in agreement with the Texan, clearly exhausted. Sniper rubbed his legs, which were finally regaining some feeling. He wiggled his toes within his boots and smiled, satisfied that he could walk without assistance.

"I'll go fetch us some wood, then." he was already walking off as he spoke, a slight limp to his stride as his legs got used to their independence again. The others moved around and began to build a make shit camping ground that was protected from the dusty wind by the three vehicles that sat in a triangle around them. A few hours later they were sitting around a blazing fire discussing the anonymous intruder who had apparently wanted them all dead.

"Not BLU, huh?" Scout drummed his fingers on his knee, unhappy by the assertion.

"I doubt it boyo, they'd want a fight oan their hands. That's somethin' they wouldnae get jus' by levellin' the buildin'." Unsurprisingly Demo had managed to rescue several bottle of scrumpy from the base, which he was rapidly working his way through. "Definitely no them."

"I agree. BLU would want fair fight. This was new enemy." Said Heavy.

"Well we have been totally kickin' their asses for the past month! What if it jus' became too much for 'em?"

"Nein." Medic shook his head. "It is not zeir style. Sniper vas attacked shortly before ze building vas rigged. Ze intruder had injected him vith a poison zat I have never seen before. It vas intended to kill, but I vas able to counter it."

"That BLU snakes poisoned me before." Sniper pointed out.

"Ja, but on any occasion vhere ze BLU Spy has used a poison it has been to _paralyse_ –not to kill. He has also never shown any interest in attacking outside vork hours. None of ze BLUs have. Zey have no reason-"

"Hold up there doc," Soldier turned to Sniper "You were attacked?" he peered over from beneath his helmet.

"Apparently, yeah." He rubbed his neck subconsciously were the needle had been jabbed in. "As I was headin' back out to me van."

"So you had a chance to stop this intruder," Soldier was sneering "and you failed?"

"Hold on a bloody minute - we ain't ever had no trouble after hours before, and I was-

"No excuse, camper! If the hard-hat hadn't just so happened to be testing out his toy, he wouldn't have detected the intruder and we would all be _dead_ – all because you couldn't smell a damn rat!?"

"Is nobody's fault." Heavy spoke up in defence of the stuttering Aussie. "This intruder was good. _Nobody_ smelled him."

"He's right son, its damn luck that I was in the shop when I was. We'd all be dead otherwise." Engineers tone was sincere, he wasn't looking for praise – he was admitting that it had been a fluke. Still, Sniper felt a pang in his stomach.

"An' he wisnae goin' anywhere in particular? Jus' plantin' the bombs an' leavin' again?"

"Planted it right outside the Support quarters." As if everyone had come to some telepathic assumption all at once, they all glanced over suspiciously at Spy, who was sitting a little bit further away from everyone else. He felt their eyes and glanced up, cigarette hanging from his lips.

"Oh, _please_." He glared at them.

"Where were ya, crouton!?" Soldier was clearly in the mood to blame someone.

"I was in my room, recovering from last night– as I assumed we _all_ were."

"You were the only one that didnae needa grab anythin' before ye left. How come you were last oot?" Demo joined his friend in the not-so-subtle accusation. Even Scout, who had been willing to run back for Spy when he was nowhere to be seen, shot him a look.

"I share a base with eight men who 'ave a fondness for fire, explosions and big guns. When I 'eard the first explosion I didn't think anything of it." He sneered at the looks of distrust that were shared amongst his team. "If I 'ad wanted to kill you all, you can be very sure that I would 'ave _succeeded_." He stood. "You're ability to so swiftly accuse a teammate who 'as worked loyally beside you for a year _astounds_ me." Before any retaliation could be made, he stormed off. Sniper watched him retreat for a moment before getting to his own feet and following. The Spook wasn't his favourite person but for some reason what Soldier said had gotten to him, and Sniper couldn't help but feel he bore the brunt if the responsibility here.

"Spook," he was ignored. "Hey, Spook- wait!" Once they were a good distance from the others, Spy finally stopped.

"Tell me," he kept his back to Sniper. "What must I do to win the trust of these so called 'comrades' of mine?"

"They're just pissed."Sniper paused, realizing now that he didn't actually know what to say. "I don't think ya done it."

"Do you not? Well, maybe you can try to convince the seven other ungrateful idiots I am forced to work with of the same? None or you – _none of you_ – have any idea what I do for this team! You all hang up your guns when the alarms sound at the end of the day, but I keep on working! My job is 24 hours a day" He turned, gesturing to himself. "Why do you think I separate myself from you all, why I refuse to drink with you? It makes my job _easier_." Swearing under his breath, his anger only seemed to be intensifying as he spoke. "But the one time, the _one_ time I decide to 'ave a break and celebrate with my colleagues, the defences are breeched and _I_ am the one to blame!?"

"Everyone's ... just tired an' that. C'mon, you know what Soldier-"

"Don't you try and comfort me!" Spy's voice was acidic. "You, the 'keen eyed' assassin who couldn't even sense an enemy slipping right by you!"

"Oi, don'chu go blamin' me jus' 'cause everyone else is havin' a go at ya! M'only tryna help!" A cruel expression twisted on Spy's face as he walked up to stare Sniper in the eyes, an inch from his face. The sudden closeness made Sniper uncomfortable, as Spy had predicted, and he seemed to shrink under the masked mans angry gaze.

"I will say this only once, _Sniper_, so try to keep it in mind. I do not like you. I see you as I see the rest of this team - as objects that I simply tolerate while I earn a living. From now on, when that alarm sounds I too will hang up my gun. Let us see how well you idiots do without me _then_." Before Sniper could reply, Spy cloaked and was gone from sight.

* * *

The next day at sunrise, everyone sorted their weapons and got ready to leave. As Spy had nothing to sort, he stood chain-smoking to the side – glaring off into the distance. Sniper noticed the angry stares aimed at the Frenchmen by the others but was still angry from their little exchange the previous night to care.

The Drive to the Western base was even worse.

Sniper was behind the wheel now, thankful that his legs were working. Medic sat in the middle muttering to his doves and Spy was next to him, leering out of the window.

"So, ze administrator was furious." Medic spoke up. "She iz using her connections to try and find out who ze perpetrator vas, though she has no leads so far."

"Maybe she'll find some in _France_." Sniper threw that out just to test Spy, but the Frenchman didn't take the bait.

"I doubt it." Medic stated matter of fact, which finally garnered a response.

"You do not think it was me?"

"I don't know." The Germans tone was honest, but Spy still seemed to take offence, snorting. "It could have been anyone on ze team, not just you."

"Why would any of us wanna blow up our own bloody base while we're still inside?"

"We weren't all inside." Spy turned. "_You_ were 'eading out to your van."

"Yeah 'cause I stuck meself with a needle after riggin' the base to explode, ya fairy."

"You are _that_ stupid." Before an argument could erupt, Medic went on.

"Because ve are all men who do what we do for money. All it takes is finding a higher bidder, and zen RED is BLU, or BLU is RED."

"Or neither."

"Precisely."

"So basically trust no one. Not even yer own bloody team? We're supposed to have each other backs!"

"It certainly didn't sound like either of you had my back last night." Spy's voice was bitter.

"Can it. I already bloody told ya – I _don't_ think it was you!"

"Yes, you quietly followed me away. Rather than speaking up for me as Heavy did for you, when you were singled out!"

"S'cause I actually make an effort with my team, Spook! What do you do, eh? You _tolerate_ us, remember? Well tolerate all you want, mate, 'cause you'll be tolerated in return – not _trusted_."

"Just. Drive." Spy was red in the face and shifted uncomfortably. He shared a brief look with Medic that Sniper caught with a side glance, but he chose not to comment. He just wanted this drive to be over.

* * *

A few hours later and Sniper had managed to say something to set the agitated Spy off again. Medic literally had to stop the Sniper from lunging over for the Frenchman, which proved even more awkward when the wheel was tugged to the right and they nearly drove off the road.

"Behave!" the German hissed at them. It would have been funny if he hadn't almost been killed by their childish fighting. At the next gas station, Sniper pulled in despite not needing to fill up. Engie and Pyro followed his lead and shot the Support class a quizzical look as they got out of their vehicles. When Spy and Sniper stormed off in different directions, they got the jist. It would have been so simple for Spy simply to switch places with another teammate, but ironically enough the only man who wasn't suspicious of the Spy's involvement in the explosion was the very man who he was currently fighting with.

"Everythin' alright doc?" The short Texan approached him.

"Ja, it iz just a little too crowded in Snipers van." He paused. "And ze are both idiots." He added.

"Well, my legs sure could do with a stretch an' all, truth to be told. But we best not stop for too long."

"Doctor." It was Heavy. "What is wrong?"

"Nothing, my friend." He patted Heavy's big shoulder. "Nothing _yet_, at least."

* * *

Sniper returned to his van before Medic and Spy did, taking the opportunity to make sure the Germans flock of wretched flying rats had not destroyed anything of value. Underneath an old pile of clothes in the back he pulled out an old photo from a crumpled bag and used a calloused thumb to remove the dust. As he brushed it, a shadow suddenly fell over him.

"Your big brother?" Spy's voice had returned to a mocking tone, clearly he was pleased to have intruded on a moment of intended privacy. He was referring to the taller boy in the photo, who had an arm around a much younger Sniper. "The resemblance is uncanny."

"S'my twin brother."

"You are a twin?"

"Non-identical, obviously." It _was_ obvious – the brother in the photograph was taller, more muscular and just far more pleasing to look at than his gangly twin.

"Hm. Clearly he got all the good genes." It had been intended as a joke but Sniper sneered and turned away. "What are the chances your twin is also an assassin?"

"He's not."

"Ah, more reason for your parents to prefer him then?"

"They did."

"Pray tell," Spy grinned "what did he do to shift the favour?"

"He died." They stood quietly for a moment. Spy's facial expression became blank rather than regretful or pitying. He should have seen that coming, really.

"My apologies." Sniper nodded, but he didn't speak as he put the photograph away and turned. Maybe he should apologise now as well, for earlier, just to make this bloody journey a bit easier.

"look-"

"Kissed and made up have ve?" It was Medic, who appeared behind them. "Gut, zen let's get going. Ze others have already left." He gave them both a displeased scowl before heading towards the front of the van.

As they pulled out of the gas station, Spy looked over at Sniper who was bobbing his head slightly to the crackling radio. He looked at Medic who was reading the newspaper he'd picked up at the gas station. He looked in the wing mirror at himself and frowned at what he saw.

How was he going to tell these men that the explosion back at base really had been because of him?


	5. Chapter 5

_**5**_

The three vehicles rumbled into the make-shift car park of REDs westernmost base just after midnight. It was a very old base, dusty and gloomy in appearance with bricks so aged the once smooth faces of each stone slab had been worn down into uneven, jagged edges.

It was smaller than their last base and it not sorted into quarters; to accommodate the mercenaries was simply a large hall with several lines of green bunks, very military in its layout and just as unhomely. Engie quickly claimed the bunk closest to the door so he could be the first to slip out to breakfast later that morning. They were all hoping to avoid any arguments as tensions were high and the morning's battle was all they had to look forward to. Battle always cheered them up – if they won.

Sniper normally stayed in his camper at night – especially during the hotter spells – but not only was it growing bitter, his van was a medley of unpleasant smells thanks to smoke, sweat and allot of birds. The Australian grabbed the bunk closed to the adjacent bathroom so he could be the first to brush his teeth before slipping away from everyone when sunrise arrived. He never woke as early as the likes of Medic or Engie, but he was an early riser.

"Heads up, stretch!" Scout jumped up onto the bunk above Snipers, likely hoping to have easy access to the bathroom too. "Aw, c'mon! This bunk's as hard as a rock, man!"

Medic tutted at the younger mans complaints as he marched passed, still annoyed that his doves had been subjected to Sniper and Spy's second hand smoke. The German sometimes slept in the infirmary though nobody knew where, but this bases infirmary was more like a large closest with a gurney in it. Sniper often pictured Medic sleeping in one of the body bags for some disturbing reason, surrounded by his wicked little pets.

Tired, frustrated and barely saying much to anyone the RED mercenaries pulled themselves into their chosen bunks without so much as kicking off their boots before sleep finally claimed them. Their performance was going to be poor tomorrow, but the fight always helped them let off some steam. It wasn't long before Heavy's bear-like snores accompanied Scout's puppy-like ones.

The last of the mercenaries stood by the door, looking on with a dead expression. Even if he could sleep, the Spy was in no temperament to share his space with any of these men for any longer than he already had. He finished his cigarette and headed down to the communications room – the only room in this base that was relatively sizable.

He had a bone to pick with his boss.

* * *

"I have been following my end of the bargain as promised." Spy kept his face void of any emotion as he spoke to the screen. "I expected that you would do the same, m'am."

"As promised?" The administrators lip curled. "Hardly. But I do concede that yes, my own end of the bargain has been less than flawless." Her voice was as cold and hard as steel and she stared down the masked Frenchman from behind the crackling static.

"They found me." he narrowed his eyes. "That was all I asked of you in return. The others may be getting a small fortune out of you for this, but all I asked for was that you keep _that_ man and his people away from me!"

"Indeed." She remained unmoved. "But, as you should know better than anyone, that man is almost as slippery as, well, _you_. Perhaps even more so. Do not forget who gave you that little disguise kit of yours, and all of your other little _trinkets_ for that matter – I have given you all you need and more to see my end of the bargain upheld. That little watch of yours is worth more than your life, so use it properly if you want to keep them both." Returning to his initial calm but stiff demeanour, Spy shifted onto his other leg.

"The others suspect me."

"Of course they do. As sub-par as most of their intelligence is, I always hire guns who have a healthy dose of paranoia. Keeps them on their toes, you see. You want to know how you almost got yourself and all of my mercenaries killed? Because you have failed to remember that your colleagues are _not_ your friends. And now you are paying the price."

"I should do nothing less than excuse myself from your services for your failure."

"My failure?" For the first time during their exchange, she smiled. "_Please_. Where exactly would you go, hm? The walls that I have allowed you to cocoon yourself inside are the finest defences of the centaury – there is no safer place for you to be. I do not want the gratitude that is so dearly owed to me, I want _obedience_."

"I have obeyed every order and completed every mission that you have given me to the letter!"

"And have I not done the same? You are alive, aren't you?" He had nothing to retort with. "Yes" she answered for him. "You _are_. Anything else?"

"No." He stood rigid, resisting the urge to hang his head.

"Good." She blew out a cloud of smoke and Spy turned to leave. "Oh and one more thing." he was expecting it, but he didn't turn round as she hissed. "The next time you have the audacity to complain to me, despite _all_ that I have given you, I will have what that man done to you at Briks look like a walk in the park." She paused. "Now get out of my sight."

* * *

The tiny make-shift operating room was not what the Medic would have called ideal, but it would have to do. Demo was currently lying on the doctors table, still swigging scrumpy as Medic dipped both his hands – wrist deep – into the black Scots chest. There were some bothersome little bullets still hiding in there somewhere, but Medic couldn't quite seem to find them. Then again, he was having a ball touching the warm contents of the other mans chest cavity; he almost didn't want to find them. He smiled fondly, remembering the first time he'd ever plunged his hands into a man's open chest – he'd just been a boy back then. He'd never forget that night.

"Have ye found a way tae fix ma eye yet, Doc?"

"I've told you before, dummkopf, I cannot fix vat is not _zere_. I can give you a glass eye."

"Glass eye? A glass eye!? S'a lotta shite Doc, c'mon!"

"I cannot _grow_ you an eye."

"Ye can keep me alive while ye take oot ma heart, but ye cannae grow me wan, wee eye!?"

"Nein, isn't that strange?" Medic had a manic smile on his face, the one he always wore when he was performing opening chest surgery; it showed off his perfect, white teeth. "Ah! Here ve are!" He pulled out the last two bullets. "Congratulations, Demo, its twins!" He burst out into laughter and, despite himself, so did Demo. A normal man would have fainted at the sight. Medic pushed his glasses up his nose with bloody fingers before grabbing the ceiling-mounted medigun and beginning to close Demos chest.

"S'at me good tae go?"

"Unfortunately, yes." The cavity now closed, Medic offered Demo a hand up, which the taller man accepted. "Your liver may be falling to pieces, but you have a very big, healthy heart. You must let me inside you again soon, ja?"

"Er … sure thing, doc." Demo twirled his finger by his head to sign that the Medic was nuts as he picked up his gun and headed out to the commencing battle. Out of the whole team, Demo was the only one who could match Heavy's level of pain tolerance.

"Archimedes!?" The bird flew down to land atop the medi-gun. "Vere is my bone-saw?"

_Crooo_, the dove nodded to behind his master who turned, smiling appreciatively. "Ah! Very gut!" putting on his coat, his gloves and grabbing his medigun, Medic went to take his leave when the sound of Spy uncloaking_ 'fooshed'_ behind him.

"Doctor."

"Ah, just in time, my table is still warm."

"Sorry to disappoint you, but I am not injured." At that Medic lifted a brow, it was true that the Spy didn't look injured, so why was he here? "I need my Nicogras." At that the Medic gave a hard frown.

"You know you have already had more zan our agreement for this week."

"With all that 'as transpired let me assure you, it is a minor set-back."

"A set-back is still a set-back. You can have some tomorrow."

"Doctor-"

"Nein. Don't _'Doctor'_ me. I have been helping you vith zis for almost a year and many times I have gave in to your vhining whenever you vere struggling, but _no_ more. Come and find me tomorrow."

"I can't _wait_ until tomorrow!" Spy was flushed in the face, visible even beneath his balaclava. His hands were shaking as if they had just been dunked in ice water – presumably what had forced him to retreat from the battle – and he was sweating far heavily than normal. "_Please_."

"Look at you! How do you expect zis to stop if you don't follow our agreement?"

"It is just this once-"

"It vas 'just this once' ze last time. Nein. No more. Tomorrow, Spy, and not a minute sooner." Medic shook his head at the pained expression that the Spy shot him before turning on his heels and heading for the battle.

Spy was nowhere to be seen amongst the fray that day.

* * *

"Ya bloody pikers!" Sniper laughed as the last of the BLUs retreated from sight. Hocking up a wad of phlegm to spit out before rolling himself a 'victory cigarette'. His throat was ravaged and his voice gravely from years of heavy smoking, but he had been trying to quit since joining RED. He'd taken to 'victory' cigarettes and 'after nap' cigarettes, but other than that had managed to cut down rather well. After all, five a day was better than thirty.

"You made us all proud, private!" Soldier had been on a roll, taking down enemy and enemy while bellowing out drill-sergeant style lectures. He was insane, but he was a credit to the team. He gave Sniper a 'thumbs up' as the slimmer man came down from his nest.

"Thanks mate, you too." He gave a polite salute before walking on, enjoying his cigarette.

"Sniper," it was Medic, who looked a little roughed up. "Did you happen to see ze Spy vhile you scoped ze field?"

"Yeah, got him a good'un right between the eyes."

"_Our_ Spy, dummkopf."

"Oh. Nah, not that I remember. Why?" Medic didn't answer; he just nodded slightly and turned to head back towards the base. The Frenchman was a proud man; Sniper doubted he would have missed work just because the others were being less than friendly with him. Then again he had picked up on Spy's unease on the van trip yesterday; he'd been less patient than usual. Sniper had put it off to the fact that they'd argued nearly the whole way there, but now he was starting to re-think things.

"Bloody Spy's." Grumbling under his breath, he stalked towards an unused backroom in the base that was once the training room, it had fallen into disuse due to its small size. The damn Spook would probably be there.

The backroom was windowless and pitch-black, all except for the flickering light that one burning candle brought, as it perched on a high shelf. Sniper glanced around a little before turning the light on.

"Gah, mon dieu – turn that off, _niais_!" He did, before walking further in and locating the Spy, who was still cursing him under his breath as he sat on one of the smaller crates.

"Jesus Christ, yer hiding away because of yesterday? I figured ye-"

"Get over yourself, you incompetent _halfwit_." Spy snapped, he was grasping his head in his hands, and his eyes were clenched shut – no cigarette was present. "I have a headache and you are making it _worse_. So get out." It must have been one hell of a headache because any charm – as superficial as it was – had left Spy and he sat in his creased suit, the top buttons undone and the tie hanging loosely.

"Ya PMS-ing, princess?" Spy couldn't even force himself to retort, he pinched the bridge of his nose with a thumb and forefinger as his pulsing migraine caused white spots to flash before his eyes.

"Why are you here?"

"Ya weren't at the battle, figured y'ran off all Frenchie-like an' that. Still, always nice ta check."

"Indeed."

"We won."

"I heard."

"Kinda proves we don't really need a spy then, don't it?"

"_Mm_." He didn't take the bait.

"Can ya at least go see the Doc, mate? S'no fun if yer just gonna bloody sit there like a big wuss." He paused to shove his hands into his pockets, eyes still adjusting in the dullness. "Doc asked after you, when the fightin' stopped."

"Is that all?"

"Nah – I missed ya on the field. Had a fresh jar filled for you and everythin'."

"Oh, you can do better than _that_." Spy finally looked up to give him an 'are you kidding' me look but Sniper just smiled and shrugged at him.

"Go see Medic. If the lads knew, they'd have a field day with you slitherin' outta work right after all that shoddy-business yesterday." Sniper pulled his hat over his eyes before turning and exiting the room. Spy watched him go as the ringing in his ears seemed to be subsiding ever so slightly. If the lads knew? Had Medic and Sniper decided not to tell them? Spy shook his head.

He didn't understand this damn team.

* * *

The next day Medic woke up at 6am like he always did to feed the doves before heading to make his own breakfast. He'd expect the Spy along before 7 for his pills, but when 8am arrived and brought no Spy with it, he began to wonder.

When 8:30 arrived, everyone was preparing to leave for the day's battle but still no Spy had turned up, and unlike yesterday the whole team had noticed.

"That damn snake failed to blow us up and now he's scurried off to his little French nazi hideout!"

"Shut up, ya crazy old bastard." Scout was jogging on the spot. "He'll be here, a'right?." If only the kid had been right. The day's battle took place without the Spy and unlike yesterday, the BLUs wiped the floor with them. Medic was swamped in the infirmary all evening and when he finally finished up, he was in no mood for small talk.

"Hey, Doc." It was Sniper, who clutched his hat nervously at the Medics irritated glare. "Didn't happen to get a visit from the Spook yet, did ya?"

"No, and I hope for his sake zat he decides not to do so for ze rest of ze night!" With that, the infirmary doors were slammed shut in Snipers face.

"Right then." He walked down towards the little backroom where he'd last saw the Spook and wrenched the door open, ready to tell the damn coward how much shit he would be in if he didn't grow a pair and stop hiding away. But the room was empty, save the heavy wooden crates that were stored there.

Sniper turned the light on and peered around but Spy was nowhere to be found. Had he actually done it? Had he actually snuck out on his team?

"Aw, piss." Sniper scratched his head as he tried to think clearly for a moment. As he slowly walked around the tiny room, something shiny caught his eye. Spy's metallic disguise kit. He picked it up and studied it, and although it took him a moment to figure out how, he opened it and peered at all the cigarettes stored there. As he took a step back, something scraped under his boot. Spooks lighter.

"What in the ruddy hell…?" He took another step back to survey the room, before taking a deep breath and removing his shades. Time to put his hunters head on. He cleared his thoughts before opening his eyes, taking in all the little tracks and tell-tale signs that his keen eyes had been impeccably trained to see.

A dark, ash-gray stain on the floor from where the Spy had dropped his cigarette and crushed it beneath his shoe.

A lighter-coloured, less dirty part of the floor at the corner of a wooden crate from where someone had pushed it out of place. No, the crate is far too heavy - from where someone had been _knocked_ into the crate, with great force.

Scuff marks on the floor, scraps in circular motions, rubbed off shoe polish from where three pairs of boots had struggled against a fourth pair.

In the corner, Spys tie. Upon closer inspection, Spys tie with droplets of blood on it, from where he had been _attacked_.

The picture slowly drew itself in his mind and he finally let out that deep breath. He'd seen enough. Placing his shades back on his face, Sniper jogged down to retrieve, not his rifle, but his hardwood bow. The Huntsman.

He was going hunting.


	6. Chapter 6

_**6**_

Unfortunately, this was not the first time he'd been strapped to a chair with a hood obstructing his vision, but unlike the last time, the Spy knew exactly why he was here.

And who had him here.

Both of his wrists and ankles were tied tightly to the steel chair that was bolted to the floor and his suit was torn and bloody from the savage beating he'd endured in his struggle to avoid being here.

At the mercy of a sadistic twist like Guillaume Neige.

Spy knew the sick bastard was standing in the room with him, drinking in the fear that must have been radiating from him as he shivered in his restraints. Neige was not a man. He was an animal, and not of the tameable variety – he was as cold and remorseless as a shark. Spy had feared him all those years ago when he worked for him, but to be one of his "_chiots_" - that is, one of his new play things - the captive Frenchman was damn near close to tears with fear.

He'd once heard the sound of Neige slowly tearing out the teeth of a former "_chiot_" one by one for failing on a mission. It was worse, Spy thought, that he could only hear the screams. Perhaps seeing it with his own eyes would have been better than imagining the sheer, desperate agony in the boys eyes as he lay strapped to the make-shift dentist chair, gradually being reduced to gums. The human mind was always far more hideous than reality. That had not been the cruellest thing Spy had witnessed Neige inflict on another. Pulling teeth was done to allies as punishment for failure. What Neige done to his enemies … the horrors could not be said without losing their impact.

The elegant clip-clop of expensive shoes on hard floor broke the silence as a man of great weight leisurely walked to stand before his prisoner. In one, swift motion the hood was yanked from Spy's head, revealing his unmasked, bloody face as the brightness of the room temporarily blinded him.

"Gah-" He groaned, inhaling sharply and clenching his eyes shut. When his vision came swimming back, the dark image before him stood there like a tall, looming nightmare in the shape of a man.

"Bonjour, Léon." Smiled Neige.

* * *

Sniper hadn't informed any of his colleagues of what he'd seen; he couldn't risk creating a big scene and, to be frank – _someone_ was getting or giving out access to their base – and if it wasn't the bloody BLU Spy, then it was someone else. He shivered at the thought of a fellow RED being involved, but Sniper knew there was no such thing as being too careful.

Spies made allot of enemies in high places, and enemies in high places offered big money for their men. The REDs were, after all, just mercenaries. The Medic had said it himself before:

_"Because ve are all men who do what ve do for money. All it takes is finding a higher bidder, and zen RED is BLU, or BLU is RED."_

Sniper followed the tracks, invisible to an untrained eye, through the thick woods under the dulling sky. The abductors had been smart, as a vehicle would have been too loud and easily noticed; they had opted to drag the Spy's unconscious form the rest of the way. They must have made temporary base somewhere relatively nearby.

Sniper had never been good at reading books, his brother had been the smart one, but one thing he could read was a trail and Sniper was certain that whoever was leading the abductors had been in this area before; they knew _all_ the nooks and crannies. They knew where to avoid pits and where to set traps. Years of tracking had prepared him for this and it would take allot more than bear-traps and poisoned darts stuck in the ground, hidden by grass, to stop him.

"Hold on Spook," he whispered

* * *

Spy tested the ropes that held him in place, but they may as well have been made of steel for all the good it did him.

"You look older," Neige observed. "Worn out."

"I like to think that I 'ave aged well." Spy forced a wry smile in an attempt to mask his fear. "It 'as been almost eight years since we last saw one another, non?"

"Non." Neige shook his head. "It 'as been eight years since _you_ last saw _me_. But not eight years since I last saw you." Spy had known he was being hunted. "Ever since you escaped from Briks." He paused to lean down into Spy's face. "Tell me, my old friend, did you ever manage to kick that nasty little Nicogras habit?" he laughed wickedly at his own joke as Spy bared his teeth, much like a scared dog. "I last saw you sixteen months ago in Rouen, but you slipped out of reach. Again. Of course, even RED couldn't save you from me forever."

"How?" Spy's voice croaked. He didn't understand, nobody knew how to breech REDs defences. Nobody aside from BLU. Neige flashed a toothy, twisted smile as he clapped his hands – summoning someone.

The door behind Spy opened and in stepped a pair of dark boots that _tak'd_ on the cloudy floor. As the man walked around to stand before the RED, his blue shirt was visible to the corner of Spy's eye.

"G'day, _wanka_." The BLU sniper smiled cruelly down at him, his sharp teeth flashing. "S'at the right one?" He looked at Neige expectantly.

"The very one, merci." Spy stared at the Aussie with a barely manageable, seething hatred. The BLU was taller and far more muscular than his own lanky RED Sniper. Where his Australian teammate was laid-back and approachable(most of the time) preferring to hunt animals– the BLU Sniper had always been a cruel, vicious killer who took joy in hunting and gutting human game. His skin was darker and more ravaged by scars than his counterpart, and his eyes held none of REDs warmth.

"Right then, I'll be gettin' paid now."

"Of course."

Spy stared at them, and when the sniper glanced back, he grinned like a predator before pulling out a small pouch and revealing its contents to the tied man.

Poisoned darts.

"Extracted from a weed only found in the outback. That blind-eyed bastard you REDs call a 'sniper' shoulda recognised the symptoms." He snorted. "Amateur."

That was why the RED Sniper had not sensed an enemy slipping passed him when the base was rigged to explode. Nobody had slipped by at all; the BLU sniper had shot a dart at him from a distance.

"Skill always beats luck, Spook" he put his darts away. "You and yer kind sneak and snoop – and hope fer a chance. Me and my kind? We hunt. There are no chances – just needa wait for the right moment and-" he brought up a finger "_bam_" he shot his finger at Spy. "Bye bye birdy."

* * *

"Dang it, doc!" the Engineer cursed as Medic grinned at him, tightening the restraints that held him to the metal table.

"Hold still, zis vill only hurt for a moment."

"Augh-" the short Texan fought against the straps that held him in place instinctively as the Heavy looked on with a nervous expression, ready to assist if needed.

"Doctor, are you sure this is good idea?"

"Not really," he admitted "but it vas not _my_ idea." He picked up his shiny bone-saw, the gleam reflecting off of Engies dark goggles. Medic chuckled darkly "I'm just helping a friend."

"Good lord," breathed Engie, the sweat was pouring off him and he swallowed hard. "Make it quick, doc."

The German obliged.

After amputating the Engineers right arm just past the elbow, Medic cauterized the stump and cleaned it, wrapping it in thick bandages. Heavy had indeed had to help, holding the American down when he managed to break the restraints Medic had put him in, but once the hand was sawed off, he'd settled down into silence – an eerie little smile on his face.

Heavy looked between Engineer and Medic. One man had asked to have his own arm cut off. The other man had obliged without asking for the reason. Where they both just as crazy as each other?

Indeed, there was a thin line between madness and genius.

"Toymaker," Engie _hmm'd_ at him. "What will you do now?" The Tex slowly turned to look at the heavy with a half-pleasant, half-creepy smile, and though all the colour had drained from his face he looked so alive.

"Well son, that just ain't none of your business." He sat up slowly, sliding from the table and nodding towards the Medic as he patted his new stump. "''preciated, Doc." Then he disappeared out of the infirmary door, back towards his secluded little workshop without another word. His severed right arm lay on a bloody tray nearby, while the doves eyed it hungrily.

Medic smiled at Engies retreating back, his brilliant, blue eyes still bright from all the excitement. Most of the amputations that he'd performed in the past were not exactly consensual. After a short silence, Heavy spoke up, still looking rather unnerved.

"Doctor…" He turned. "Did you … did you see leetle Sniper and Spy this morning?"

A brief pause.

"Ja." He lied.

* * *

Sniper couldn't believe his eyes. Strutting out of the decaying building up ahead, motorcycle helmet under one arm, was his BLU counterpart. It wasn't the BLU Spy dishing out REDs location; it was the bloody BLU _Sniper_.

"Sonovabitch." He hissed under his breath and watched as the BLU got on his old, dusty bike and pulled his helmets visor over his eyes. Once he took off, the RED crept over from his hiding spot to the forts entrance, keeping low. He'd deal with that wanka another time.

His huntsman was silent as he took out two guards near the entrance. Taking a set of keys from one of them, he slipped inside. The interior was decrepit but bright, one of the large bulbs on the ceiling flickered and swayed, and there were no windows to be seen. Readying his bow, Sniper began to make his way down the hallway. The sound of a door opening was sharply followed by voices splitting the silence, echoing down the narrow corridor. Sniper hid behind a corner as two figures passed him, speaking in low French. Once they were out of earshot, he silently jogged down the hall, glad to see that there was only one door to choose from.

Clearly they were here for one reason, and one reason alone – and Sniper had a pretty solid idea of _who_ that reason was.

He opened the door and stepped into darkness, running his hand up the side for a switch, and turning on the light when he found it. Before him was a hooded man tied to a chair, his back facing Sniper, and whose body went completely rigid at the sound of another visitor. The Bushman circled around and slowly pulled the hood off to stare down into familiar blue eyes.

He knew who the man in the chair was, but he still stood there staring at that unmasked face for a moment. The Spy looked different from how he'd always imagined him.

"Hey."

He was battered and bruised, but there was no mistaking that it was him. Spy's hair was a dark brown that matched Snipers own, but his features were too beaten to tell what he looked really like.

"Y'alright?"

"Sniper…?" RED, thought Spy, _thank God._

"S'right," he unsheathed his kukri and began to work at the Spy's bonds. "Hold still." It took longer than either man would have liked, but eventually the ropes were cut away and Spy fell to his knees from the chair as if about to vomit.

"Gimme yer arm." As Sniper crouched down to take an unoffered arm, Spy looked up at him and they stared at one another for a moment. Spy could see himself in Snipers reflective aviators, and he looked as bad as he felt. In days gone by he would have been forced to kill a man for setting eyes upon his face, but this was Sniper – his colleague. Not the Sniper who had helped put him here.

"Bushman-"

"Later, we gotta get bloody goin'" He hauled the Spy to his feet not ungently, and half-carried half-dragged him out of the interrogation room. Spy's whole body was trembling and his eyes were blood shot and ghost like, Sniper figured that even if he still had the mask on he'd still look like a different person.

"_Quiet_." He tried to walk silently but it proved difficult with the other mans weight, and with his huntsman slung over his back he would be slow to the draw, as he carried his teammate down the corridor.

"Stop." Spy's voice sounded after a while. Whether Sniper was ignoring him or simply hadn't heard him, the spy was uncertain. "_Stop_." He said more firmly.

"S'only five more miles mate." Spy collapsed to his knees again, forcing the taller man holding him to stumble. It was five miles he just couldn't make like this.

"I can't."

"Y'can."

"Non. I … I can't."

"I'll bloody carry ya, if I have to." Despite the situation, Spy found himself smiling slightly at that, his split lip re-opening. "I knew those BLU bastards were involved somehow, but don't worry, we'll tell the lads an-"

"I doubt that the rest of BLU know what their sniper has done." The BLU Sniper had been a contract killer before being employed by BLU, but it was not too farfetched to believe that he still did the odd independent job - Neige must have sought him out specifically to hunt Spy, he figured. The Frenchman was going limp, his vision and hearing slowly leaving him. "I … I think that …" he passed out in Snipers arms, who just grumbled and threw him up over his shoulder.

"holy dooly, y'needa lay off the frogs legs." He began the five miles back to the RED base, praying that none of his colleagues had noticed their absence. And that none of Neige's men had noticed Spy's.

* * *

Guillaume Neige sat listening to the gentle hum of his radio with a contented smile. He initially had his doubts about hiring that Australian fellow from BLU for the job, but he had once been a feared bounty hunter – "the best" – according to his sources, and he needed the best if he wanted to find Léon Duclos. He poured himself a glass of wine; enjoying the sensation of knowing that after all these years he had finally got the slippery bastard. What should he do to his little chiot first, he wondered…

As he sipped his wine there was a rap at the door and a man asked for permission to enter in French.

"Come in."

"Neige sir, it's … it's Duclos … he's gone, sir."

"You mean you've lost him."

"Yes, sir…"

"I'm disappointed." He calmly took a sip of his wine. "_Unlose_ him."

"Sir."

When the door closed, Neige stood for a minute, finishing his wine before roaring like a black bear and firing his empty glass across the room, shattering it into a hundred pieces off the stone wall. Eight years. It had taken him eight years to get his hands on this man – and he wasn't about to let him slip away again.

"You can run, Léon, but you can't hide from me."

* * *

"Doc?"

Crooo

"Piss off Archimada."

"_Archimedes_." Medic corrected as a displeased look fixed onto his face. "And zis is his infirmary too."

"Jeez, doc! I hate it when y'do that!" Sniper had spun around, eyes wide in surprise at Medics silent appearance. "Listen, spooks in a bad way."

"I can see zat." The German eyed the smaller man Sniper had drooping over his shoulder. "Put him on ze table, you can tell me how zis happened as I assess ze damage." He peeled off his gloves and pushed up his glasses as Sniper dropped their unconscious colleague onto the shaky gurney with a not-so quiet thud.

"Some Frenchies took him to an old buildin' 'few miles away. Got to him before they could do much, though."

"Zhose _'Frenchies'_ are led by a man named Neige." Medic looked at his watch as he timed Spy's heart rate, his expression blank.

"Wait, what? Neige? Who'sat?"

"He vas Spy's last employer."

"How d'you even know that?"

"Vell, I don't know all ze details." Medic began to clean the small wound on Spy's forehead with the precision of a man who barely had to look to know what he was doing. "Just zat eventually, Neige decided zat Spy knew too much, zat he had become a threat. So it vas arranged to have him removed." He dabbed some blood away, saying no more.

"Removed?" Sniper urged he continue.

"Ja."

When the Sniper stared at him with a hard, unblinking look, Medic sighed before continuing.

"Neige handed Spy over to a rival who forced Nicogras down his throat - to force addiction you see - leaving him to go mad vithout it." He grinned at Snipers taken aback expression. "Nicogras is extremely addictive, but it's also extremely rare, so Spy came to me shortly after ve vere employed for help to vean it out of his system. In return, I simply asked for ze truth as to how he came about ze addiction in ze first place."

"How did he escape, the first time?" Medic shook his head.

"Zat's something you'll need to ask him, vhen he vakes up."

Hm. Sniper took to slumping in a nearby chair as Medic began to stitch up all of Spy's little wounds, cleaning each one with a cotton pad as he did so. When the damn Spook woke up, he had allot of explaining to do.


	7. Chapter 7

_**7**_

"Well what?" Spy didn't bother to up as he spoke, instead staring into the now empty glass of water Medic had handed him upon regaining consciousness.

"Y'gonna tell us wot all _that_ was all about, then?" Sniper eyed him.

"I think not."

"Don'chu _'think not'_ me, spook. If it weren't fer me, you'd still be tied to that bloody chair havin' God-knows-wot done to ya, so yer bloody talkin'!" The Spy sat, his naked face still badly bruised from his mistreatment, not saying a word to either man in the room."You used to work for that guy. This _Neige_ bloke?"

Spy said nothing.

"Look. Me business ain't yer past -"

"Non, it is not."

"Lemme _finish_. This Neige guy tried to blow up our base with me and all the lads still in it. That _is_ me business. _All_ of ours. S'also me business when that BLU bastard's involved."

"BLU?" Medic broke his silence from the corner, his black eyebrows raising.

"The BLU Sniper." The RED announced "Prick."

"Zat explains how zhey located out base, at least."

"Indeed," The Spy heaved a sigh and rubbed the heels of both hands into his eyes. "Listen … this does not concern either of you. _Any_ of you. At all. As long as I leave RED, none of you will come to any-"

"Y'can't just _leave_."

"This is my problem – one that I 'ave been running from for too long."

"Y'don't needa run ya bleedin' idiot, we'll _help_ you."

"Why would you 'elp me?"

"Wotcha mean why? Because we're-"

"Friends? _Please_. We are not friends, Sniper. We are colleagues. I've done nothing to earn you're trust nor your help. Mon dieu, you were all nearly killed because of me!"

"Enough of the self-pity party. After our base blew up an' we had ta stop fer the night, can ya remember wot y'said to me?" Spy opened his mouth but Sniper continued anyway. "Y'said that when work ends, when we all hang up our guns - you kept on workin'. An' you were right, Spook. You had that base defended every night while we all slept, an' y'had our backs watched when we didn't even know it. An' still, everybody turned on ya after that explosion."

"Sniper-"

"Nah, shut up a minute. Been thinkin' bout it since then and yer right, I didn't have any bloody idea how much you'd done fer me, fer us all, but now I _do_. This bloke's out to get you. But yer part of RED now, wither ya like us or not. That Frenchie sonovabitch is gonna have to get through us _all_ if he wants ta get his hand on ya again."

Medic nodded in agreement and Spy sat still, staring at his Australian colleague who had grown visibly more angered as the thought ran through his head. Archimedes landed on Snipers shoulder and cocked his little head at him.

Crooo?

"Plus, I really wonna punch that BLU wanka in the face."

"So, it is settled zhen, ja?" the doctor stepped up "Vhat is ze plan?"

"Tomorrow. That BLU mongrel won't be expectin' Spy to be at the battle, so I'm thinkin' we pay him a lil' visit an' find out where Neige headed."

"Wait, wait." Spy continued to rub his face with a pained expression. "Neige is a very powerful man. You think I would just run from 'im if I suspected I 'ad a chance of killing 'im? Non. I came to RED because I thought it would keep me safe." He shook his head. "It couldn't. The three of us can't do anything, even if the whole of RED were to know, we'd have nothin-"

"S'fairy talk. Grow a pair of balls, mate. I've seen ya take out nine men without a single one of them even knowin' it."

"For once our dear sharpshooter is making sense. Neige has already proven zat you are not safe vith RED, and you already know zhere's novhere else for you to go. You don't really have any other choice but to accept our help." Medic spoke in a far away voice, as if he were only half paying attention to the exchange while idly thumbing at a scalpel.

"Indeed," Spy eyed him "Tell me, doctor, why exactly are you 'elping me?" Medic smiled, glancing over.

"It's alvays useful to have people owing you _favours_."

* * *

Sniper had been raised to hold others above himself, to value friendship and family above everything else. That still didn't make him resent moments like this any less, as he punched in the number to his parent's house on the hard pay phone. It rang for a moment before an old man answered.

"Hey dad," He sighed as the voice on the other end of the phone just grumbled in reply, muttering sourly. "S'mum there?"

"Yeah."

"… Can you put her on?"

"Ya still a crazed gunman?" Oh for the love of …

"Dad, we've went over this."

"_Well_!?" Sniper exhaled loudly and scratched the back of his neck.

"Look - I'm still an assassin-" His father snorted in contempt.

"No good, God-fearing man worth his salt would take another man's life for money!"

"Dad-"

"We brought yer up right. Yer old grandma will be turnin' in her grave!"

"Dad…"

"And so will yer brother!" Before he could catch himself, Sniper spoke.

"S'enough! I'm sicka this - this _bullshit_ every time I call home!"

"Don'chu take that tone with me, ya ingrate!"

"Oh, i'm an ingrate!?"

"Ye are!"

"_I'm_ an ingrate!?"

"Yer be gettin' upset when the truth is brought up, boy! Well the truth hurts! Yer brother never approved of this gunman business – and what did you do, eh!? Drove off to live in the bloody outback with yer rifle the day after his bloody funeral!"

"I had me reasons!"

"Leavin' yer poor mother in the state she was in! She needed her son with her after losing Lucas, and where were ya?! EH!?"

"I … I-"

"Ye what!? What reasons did you have then, boy, eh!? What _reasons_ did ye have!?"

"Because I bloody heard what you _said_!" Sniper slammed the phone down with such ferocity that it knocked off the side of the hanger before falling to swing loosely like a lifeless snake, his father's silence on the other end of the line sounding far more deafening than his shouting had been.

* * *

"Begin!"

The administrator's voice bellowed out over the dusty fields to announce the start of another working day. BLU were on the defence, so RED had concocted a "plan" to just bash their way inside. Scout and Soldier took one entrance while Pyro took the other, his flame retardant back being skilfully watched by Sniper. Heavy and Medic waited back for the Scout to patch through and alert them he was inside, and the Spy cloaked as Engie worked on his sentries.

"SCREAMIN' EAGLES!" Soldier charged on first, though the young Boston that accompanied him quickly out ran him to take on the BLU Heavy.

"Hurr mph phrr!" Pyro roasted the BLU scout alive as the boy tried to jump him, and once he had made his way inside the base, Sniper slung his rifle over his shoulder and climbed down from his nest. Suddenly, someone uncloaked behind him - the rugged Bushman momentarily gained the grace of a cat as he whipped out his kukri and turned with a swift, swinging motion. Steel met steel as the kukri collided with the RED Spy's butterfly knife.

"Shall we?" he smiled at his teammate.

"Wait," Sniper eye'd him wearily "How do I know yer really our spy?"

"Bushman, if you mistake me for that amateur again then this 'friendship' is not going to play out well." Sniper grinned and nodded, lower his large blade.

"Let us move!"

Manoeuvring their way through the smoky battlefield, Spy disguised himself as the BLU Scout and headed up to where the BLU Sniper had set up nest. His RED counterpart rounded a corner out of sight and waited for the spooks signal.

_BOOM_

"Take that! Ya one-eye'd drunk!" The BLU Snipers taunts were drowned out only by his harsh, raspy laughter as he hocked up thick phlegm and spat loudly. "Looks like yer one RED short today, lads! Where's yer pet snake, eh!?"

"Right behind you."

Much like his counterpart had earlier, the BLU Sniper's first instinct was his kukri, but Spy was on him like a shot. They wrestled awkwardly, with the Spy managing to dodge all the slashes aimed at his gut. He got the barbaric Australian to the ground; elegance beating brute force.

"Get _offa_ me, ya -"

"I 'ave 'im." Spy spoke through his ear piece, signalling his own Sniper to join him as the BLU struggled beneath him and snarled like an ensnared crocodile.

"Yer supposed to be dead!" he spat. Spy wrapped a gloved hand in Snipers hair and yanked up, bringing his lips to the taller mans ear. "Non. But unless you answer my questions, you _will_ be."

"Piss off!"

"Oi mate," the RED Sniper entered the nest with a cocky grin "Ya got a Spy right here." He patted his own shoulder and laughed as his rival cursed at him.

"Come and 'elp me with 'im." He'd got him down yes, but Spy doubted he could keep him down for much longer. RED Sniper obliged and held onto the BLU as Spy slipped off his tie and bound his enemy's hands with it.

"S'that even strong enough to hold him?"

"Don't worry – this will not take very long."

"You RED wankas can go straight ta hell, I ain't tellin' ya nothin'!"

_WHACK_

After Spy backhanded him, the BLU was hauled to his knees and held there by his wild, black hair. He continued to curse and try to wriggle free but it proved in vain, so he settled for just sneering at his captors. As RED Sniper held him in place –kukri to his throat - Spy stood before them and looked down at the BLU with a dead expression, the sunlight creeping in from the window outlined him, highlighting him like some terrifying angel of death.

"Where is Niege?" Silence.

WHACK

"Where is Niege?" Silence.

_WHACK WHACK CRUNCH_ – a tooth was knocked from his mouth and he groaned.

"_Where_?" Those bloodied, swollen lips parted and he mumbled something as he squeezed his eyes shut. His answer was little more than a whisper as the RED Sniper held him straight with his iron-grip.

"… o …ug … ers …"

Spy came close to hear him better when the BLU coughed and spluttered, but then he stared at the mask before him with dark, icy eyes.

"Go bugger yerself – ya queer." He spat a wad of blood in Spy's face, grunting when the man behind him yanked on his hair. Not losing face at all, the Spy simply removed a handkerchief from his pocket, wiped his face, and then put the rag away again. "I … I ain't tellin' ya." He spat more blood, this time at the floor. "Yer gonna needa kill me."

"So ya can respawn? Nah, don't think so mate." His counterpart's voice was hoarse. "Y'don't get the luxury of death today."

Spy reached into his coat and pulled out his shiny metallic case, lighting himself a cigarette. Staring down at the spluttering Sniper with eye's that seemed to hold no light, the Frenchman smoked idly before speaking up after a long time.

"Hold him still." The RED Sniper did. Spy lent over to grasp the BLUs jaw in his steely fingers and he removed his cigarette from his lips and turned it. "I am going to count to three."

Red Sniper held the BLU fast.

"When I get to three."

"You bloody-"

"You're world's going to become very, very _dark_."

"You bastards!"

"Un." So very slowly, the smouldering ash at the end of the cigarette gradually grew closer and closer to the watery surface of the BLU's eye – his lids pried open by gloved fingers.

"Wai-"

"Deux." Closer. Closer still.

"Wait!"

"Trios-"

"He's away ya bloody _fruitloop_! He's gone – augh – he's went away to somewhere!"

"To _somewhere_? Tell me, where is this somewhere?" The cigarette hovered mere millimetres away from the centre of his watering eye.

"I dunno, o'right! I'm not one of his men! I jus' done one bloody job for him, jus' the _one_ – why'd he bother tellin' me his plans!?"

"Before you were employed by BLU, you refused to take jobs from clients who didn't give you some leverage. You demanded their 'ome address as well as your payment, so that if they tried to back out on the latter you could 'unt them down personally." The RED Spy and the BLU Sniper were now nose to nose, and the French voice that spoke next was dripping with venomous warning – like a cobra hissing. "I've read your file, _Mr Walker_. Believe me when I say that melting your eyes if far from the _worst_ thing that I could do to you." All fell silent for a movement, until the BLU cleared his drying throat.

"Briks." The word alone caused Spy to flinch, as if he'd just been struck. "S'all he said, oright? Some place called Briks-"

"Yo Frenchie!" it was the Scout through his ear piece. "We won man! Get your creepy, invisible ass out here!"

Without further questions or even another word, the Spy turned and left the nest. The RED Sniper released his BLU counterpart before sheathing his kukri.

"I'll kill you fer this," said the BLU "Both of ya."

"S'good ta hear, mate. I look forward to the attempt." The RED saluted mockingly and then made to leave the nest himself, before stopping. In one quick motion he turned and slammed his fist into the side of the BLUs head hard enough to send him across the floor. "Wanka." Then he followed the spy out to meet the rest of their team.

* * *

Due to the unhealthy amount of uncontrolled fires breaking out around the base, courtesy of Pyro, every room was now fitted with extra-sensitive smoke detectors. Unfortunately this meant that Spy had to drag himself outside the base to have a cigarette. Leaning against the wall with an extra jacket on for warmth, the Frenchman smoked leisurely as he glanced over at the Snipers camper.

Briks. It had been eight years since he'd last been there. Eight years since he'd been mercilessly tortured there. He should have known Niege would have gone there. Maybe he did, maybe he choose to ignore that possibility to retain his sanity.

"I needa get me one a those," said an Australian accent to his left. "The handsome rogue who lives in that beauty must be the happiest man on the planet."

"What are you doing?" asked Spy as he continued to stare at the beaten-up camper.

"Voicin' yer inner monologue," Sniper had appeared holding his mug."Oh if only my poncy-Frenchie ways would let me pull this stick out me arse and get me a fine camper like that bad-boy."

"Indeed, I should invest in a tiny little van that requires I piss into jars because it does not even 'ave a lavatory. I'll feel like a king."

"Real kings piss in jars, mate, everybody knows that."

"Yes, I'm sure the queen of England 'erself keeps a little jar under 'er bed at night too."

"Nah, women use bowls." Spy blinked at him, and then burst into laughter as smoke billowed from his lungs. Sniper joined him with a harsh laugh, his throat gruff.

"'onestly Bushman, if anyone can turn piss into a conversation starter, it is you."

"Oi, Oi, you brought it up first."

"Listen ..." Spy's smile slowly vanished. "About Briks-"

"Y'hungry?" He frowned at Sniper for the interruption, until he realised he was being invited to talk about it away from prying ears.

"What fine cuisine are you offering?"

"Noodles?"

"Magnifique."

* * *

"Zat looks good!" Medic admired the stump of Engie's arm that he had just unwrapped, smoothing his thumb over the blotchy skin. "Very nice indeed."

"That's just swell, Doc, any chance you could, ah, use your medi-gun to heal it up quicker?"

"Unfortunately not, ze medi-gun only has power during battles. If you find me during vork tomorrow, I can to it zen."

"Thank you, kindly." He got up from the chair and picked up his hardhat and goggles. Just as he went to wish the doctor good night, muffled shouting gradually got louder as an arguing pair of voices made their way towards the door.

"Heads up." Engie chuckled just as the doors opened and in stormed a very angry looking Sniper.

"I'm gonna kill him!" he snarled "I'm gonna kill him, then you can bring him back, and then I'm gonna _kill_ him!" Sniper barked at Medic as Spy elegantly swaggered in just behind him.

"Doctor, I'm afraid that our friend Sniper 'as-"

"_He_ blinded me in me eye!" Sniper interrupted, pointing at his eye indignantly.

"Exactly where else can you be blinded, mon ami?"

"Shut yer hole! Doc! I can't see a damn thing out me left eye! Bloody Demo was furious when he saw me, thought I was mocking him and tried t'take out me other eye while he," he pointed at Spy "just stood there laughin'!"

"Well." Engie was edging towards the door. "I'd love to stay and chat boys but y'all look awful bus-"

"Stay, kamarad. Zere is something Spy vould like to tell you anyvay."

"There is?" Both Spy and Sniper inquired at the same time.

"Ja. Sit down Dummkopf." Medic grabbed Sniper by the shoulder and pushed him onto a chair. "And you two are unbelievable."

"Me? I did not do a thing."

"Ya stabbed me in the eye, ya ponce!"

"Vith a fork?" enquired Medic, who was now flashing a light into Snipers injured eye to inspect the damage.

"Yeah." Grumbled the Auralian.

"We were enjoying some divine Australian noodles."

"Vell, zere does not seem to be any severe damage. At least, no damage zat time vill not heal."

"Wow, wow, wow – Time? Wot time!? I'm a sniper! How can I go to work tomorrow with only one eye!?"

"I thought Snipers only used one eye?" teased Spy.

"Rubbish! I need a hundred percent of my peripheral vision! Doc, please mate, ya gotta do _something_?"

"Oh don't be such a baby; your eye vill be fine." He picked up a bottle from a shelf, without bothering to look at the label, and forced Snipers head back with his hand. Engineer cleared his throat loudly, to indicate that he was still present but was ignored. Medic used his thumb, surprisingly gently, to push up Snipers eyelid.

"A familiar scene." Spy mused, grinning at his own joke.

"Uh, Doc?" Engie was glancing between Medic and the exit.

"Be patient, my one-handed friend."

"One-handed? _Ow_!" Without warning, Medic spilled a few droplets of the solution into Snipers eye.

"Blink." He obeyed. "Very gut. You have very blue eyes, Sniper. Ze bluest I've seen actually – very sought after in Germany you know." Without even thinking, the half-blinded assassin blurted out his thoughts.

"Were you a Nazi, doc?"

"_Sniper_!" Engie growled.

"Wot?"

"You can't ask such a personal question, you oaf." said Spy.

"Comin' from _you_!"

"From me nothing, you are _tactless_." When Spy noticed that Medic looked neither surprised nor offended, he arched an eyebrow. "_Were_ you?"

"_Fellas_!" Medic lifted a hand to assure Engie that it was fine.

"Nein." The German shook his head. "As a child I joined ze Deutsches Jungvolk at ze behest of my mother, and as a teenager I vas put into ze Hitler Jugend as by zat time it vas all but compulsory. But no, as a young man I had no interest in vhat ze Nazi's believed," he paused "even before ze truth about vhat they'd been doing got out."

"Didn't think ya had morals, Doc." Sniper tried to joke to break the silence that followed as Spy slapped a hand onto his own face.

"Mon _dieu_, Bushman…"

"Eveyone has morals, Sniper," Medic said bluntly "Some people just don't hold them in such high regard."

"Anyhow … what's this thing that y'all are needin' to tell me?" Engie cocked his head to the side, his stump now hidden beneath his hardhat.

"Oh. Spy's only gone and pissed off some nutty French asshole. S'why we almost got blown up-"

"_Sniper_!"

"Wot?"

"Tactless!" Spy looked about ready to attack him.

"Wow now, hold up – _who_ tried to blow us up?"

The Spy sighed long and loud, but ultimately, he gave in under the Texans stone hard gaze. He told them what he could.

Neige had once held a relatively high position in the French government, which he used to shield himself from all kinds of retribution for his less-than-wholesome exploits. He had ties to several high ranking war criminals who he often bribed in order to abuse their positions, earning a small fortune in dirty money by stealing and then reselling goods to the desperate French people. Spy had been an 'enforcer' or sorts for Neige; he 'convinced' those who decided not to pay up on time the errors of their ways. After a particularly stubborn client refused to pay up, Neige ordered that Spy slay his young son as a final warning.

He couldn't do it.

Soon after that, Spy was dragged off by one of Neige's rivals. To Briks. There, he endured their treatment for days before a friend and colleague finally found him. It was this friend that had informed Spy that Neige had set him up, having come to see him as weak. After that friend turned up dead not long after, Spy new Neigh had become aware of his escape and would soon be after him. He was now a wanted 'chiot'. That was when he fled France and eventually, he was recruited by RED.

"When the base was rigged to explode, I knew right away that it must have been Neige. You all thought it was me, and I suppose in a way you were right. I never thought that 'e would 'ire the BLU Sniper, but thanks to 'im we now know where Neige is."

"An' you boys plan on goin' on over there?"

"Oui."

The Engineer was a good man. Spy had been suspicious of him at first - the labourer certainly had a hidden dark-side, but who didn't? The Texan had his lips pressed into a line as he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, studying his French colleague. Slowly, a smile grew across his face and one hand and one stump came to rest on each knee.

"Son, I'd be delighted to tag along."


	8. Chapter 8

_**8**_

"Remind me again, doctor, why you saw fit to include another person into our '_secret'_ trip to Briks?" Spy leaned over Medic threateningly as a cigarette hung from his lips. The dove on Medics shoulder ruffled it's feathers, ready to peck the face off the man bothering his master.

"Yes, yes. Frown _all_ you vant. If Briks is as heavily guarded az you say zen ve are going to need our American friends knowledge to even gain access to zat building." Medic pushed his glasses up.

"I have enough devices to-"

"-but vhat if Niege _kills_ you vhile ve are still inside, and _I_ have to escape? I can't very vell unlock ze doors by myself, can I?"

"And there it is." Spy pulled away, his lip curling.

"Oh don't look so surprised, ve both know I'm not helping you out of ze goodness of my heart."

"_Indeed_."

"Right lads," Sniper approached them with his rifle slung over his back. "We're takin' Engies truck insteada me van."

"Thank goodness."

"_Shut_ it. Doc, you got all yer supplies an' that?"

"Ja."

"Good, let's get goin'." As Sniper made to turn, his hat moved independently on his head as if about to levitate from it. Spy and Medic gave him an unsavoury look and eyed the hat suspiciously. Sniper stared at them innocently.

"Wot?"

_Crooo_

"Archimedes!"A little white face popped out from beneath the hat. "Get back to ze infirmary zis _instant_!" the dove obeyed and Medic glared at Sniper accusingly.

"I-I swear I didn't know he was under there!" Medic stormed passed him. "I swear!" he followed after the German, clutching his hat. Spy watched them go and blinked in dismay. He was about to face off against the only man in his entire life that had ever managed to scare him. _Really_ scare him. And these two idiots were going to help him?

_God 'elp me..._

* * *

The drive to Briks was long and tedious but with Engie's voice of reason present, no big fights broke out among the support mercenaries for once. Sniper eyed Engies hands as they rested on the wheel. He was certain that something was off about them... hadn't the doc mentioned something about 'one-handed'?

"So, how long you boys actually known about alla this then?"

"Few days," replied Sniper. "He was gunna jus' up an' leave RED insteada tellin' us." He gestured to Spy with a thumb.

"S'that true?"

"Does that surprise you?" asked the Frenchman.

"No." He answered honestly. "S'a shame you'd feel the need to leave though, what with us havin' worked together so long an' all."

"My apologies Labourer, I never knew you _cared_ so much."

"Yer gonna needa excuse him, s'been pissin' an' moanin'since the base blew up." Spy rolled his eyes before lighting himself a cigarette.

"S'quite alright." Engie chuckled. "You boys got enough room?" The support class were, in fact, squeezed into a space meant for just two men, as the back of the truck was filled with various Engie-things. They were huddled shoulder to shoulder and had been elbowing one another since the drive began.

"No."

"That's swell." Engie nodded, dismissing their discomfort as he begun to whistle a happy tune. "Y'all better buckle up." He pressed his foot down on the gas pedal.

"Zhere iz only one seat beat."

"Well then ya best be hopin' I don't crash, doc." He chuckled as the speed of the truck flew round the clock on his dashboard.

"E-Engie-!"

"Don't worry, boys- I'll get us there in _no_ time." With no seatbelt to assure that he wouldn't fly through the windscreen at any second, Medic clutched on to both Sniper and Spy as he paled dramatically. "Yee-_haw_!" The Texan burned rubber, apparently unaware of his three terrified passengers.

* * *

Briks. It was a huge, intimidating building that even an untrained eye could date to at least the 18th century. It had the bulk and towers of a castle, but was redbrick and covered in twisting vines.

"This it?" Sniper looked over to Spy, though his expression answered before his voice.

"Oui." His eyes were hard and cold. "Oui, this is it." Sniper scouted around the front of the fort to ensure that there were no sentries before returning to the group, were Engie had unloaded his truck.

"Wha'chu doin'?"

"Jus' a lil' rearrangin'. You all clear?"

"Yeah, les'go."

The doors to Briks were surprisingly small, but locked by a complicated looking security system. It was lucky that Engie had come along after all, because none of Spy's devices would have managed to sap it. After some tinkering, Engie got them in. Spy paused uneasily at the entrance, swallowing deeply. Sniper caught sight of his fear out the corner of his eye and gave him a slight pat on the shoulder.

"We're goin' in together, mate."

Spy nodded.

"I'll be right behind _you_, fer once."

* * *

"Niege sir, someone's breeched our defences they've-"

BANG!

Niege shot a hole clean through his subordinates head as he sat idly in his chair. "Do not interrupt me while I'm thinking." A few of his other men gulped and shared worried glances as their boss stroked his smoking revolver passively. He was a big man, his size alone was enough to send fear into the strongest of men. But his viciousness was on a whole new level.

"_Villon_."

"Yes, sir?"

"Have you're men take care of our little pest problem. I want Duclos alive. Kill the others."

"Sir."

"Oh and Villon?" the charcoal-haired man paused. "If Duclos escapes, you'll be taking his place in my torture chamber"

"...sir."

* * *

"Phew-ee, would ya lookit that?" Engie appraised the machinery before them. Where the outside of Briks was barbarically outdated, the inside was a technological goldmine. Clever, he conceded, as he began to tinker with various gadgets.

"One of Niege's hobbies was extorting and selling new technologies and developing new, better weapons." Spy explained as he walked. "He'd always dreamed of owning a nuclear bomb."

Sniper froze. "... whot's this 'bout a nuclear bomb?"

"Niege always wanted one."

"Yeah, got that bit – is one here? In this building with us, _now_?"

"I don't know." He answered honestly.

"Aw Jesus." Sniper covered his face with a hand. "Stuck here in this bloody castle'a death with these crazy bloody-"

"_Quiet_." Spy lifted a hand as a low, dangerous growl rumbled nearby.

"_...wot is that?"_ mouthed the Australian.

A pair of sharp, illuminated eyes appeared at the end of the dull hallway and they blinked menacingly down at them.

"... he still keeps them." Whispered Spy.

"... vhat?" The eye were joined by hair a dozen other pairs, glowing in the dull light of the hall as the growling amplified to sound like a furious wasps next.

"... 'is pups." The _tak tak_ of paws on hard floor echoed as the eyes revealed themselves to belong to seven, enormous Doberman pinschers that stalked towards them, razor sharp teeth bared hungrily.

"Oh, shit." Sniper spoke for all four men as he began to edge back.

"Don't waste your ammo," whispered the Spy. "Run." His three comrades stared at him unmoving, as he continued to back away. "_Run_!" they did, but the huge hounds gave chase and were gaining on them with relentless speed. It took all four men to hold the door closed as the pack of hellhounds rammed themselves against the door. The snarling was monstrous at the force with which they struck was stunning. They couldn't have been ordinary dogs.

"Bloody _hell_, what now!?" Medic was fumbling about in one of his packs."_Doc_!?"

"One moment," sweat was shiny on his forehead as he pulled a small canister from a pouch. "Open ze door."

"What!?" Spy snapped at him.

"Open it now!" surprisingly they did, and the doctor threw the smoking canister into the hallway. The dogs burst into the room to sneer dangerously at the four men, saliva dripping from their ravenous mouths. Their growls subsided however, and they began to cower and whimper. Their tails fell to between their legs and before long they were skittering away out of the room yelping as if they'd just seen the devil.

"What the hell jus' happened?" Engie was first to speak up.

"A little something I've been vorking on. Fear gas - zough its potency only seems to affect animals of lesser intelligence. I have been testing it on our Russian friend for veeks but have not yet been able to compile a batch zat is strong enough to elicit fear in humans."

"And I suppose Heavy doesn't know 'bout this, _does_ he?"

"Of course not." Medic scoffed at the absurdity of that question.

"Let's move." Spy rushed on ahead, his teammates soon following behind.

"Where exactly will this guy _be_, anyway?" Sniper caught up to jog side by side with the Spy, who was the fastest runner of the four.

"I do not know, but 'is pups do not wander, which means 'e knows we're 'ere and sent them after us. 'e'll be dispatching a unit to kill you-" as if on cue, heavy boots trampled on hard floor from nearby and the four RED mercs froze. Sniper lifted his rifle as Engie cocked his shot gun.

"Get behind me, doctor." That line sounded unnatural coming in a French accent rather than a Russian one as Spy raised his revolver and moved to stand in front of Medic. The German aimed his medi-gun at the suit before him, ready to heal when needed.

"Try not to die, ja?"

From around the corner a unit of five men appeared, led by Albert Villon, a man Spy had once been a superior too. When recognition sunk in, he scoffed.

"Sent you to do 'is dirty work for 'him, _Villón_?" The man had black hair, pale skin and one milky eye – a punishment he'd received from Niege as a novice.

"It's been a long time, Léon. I'm surprised you're still alive."

"I'm surprised you still 'ave the one good eye. You were never any use, _were_ you?" That was clearly a sensitive issue, as Villon flinched. "Out of my way, and I'll consider not killing you."

"You kill people now? If I recall correctly, you were starkly against the 'taking of life' non?"

"People change." Spy cocked his gun. "Move and I won't 'ave to demonstrate for you." Engie surveyed the situation, immediately picking up on the discomfort in Villons posture. Whatever their previous working relationship, the younger man across from them was clearly still intimidated by the Spy. Not as scared as he was of Niege, apparently, as he remained in place.

"Lay down your weapons and hand yourself in. Niege will let your friends go if you co-operate."

"Niege doesn't _let_ people go."

"People change," Villon grinned. "Right?"

"We both know Niege doesn't count as a _man_. That animal will 'ave my comrades skinned alive at the first chance 'e gets." He placed his finger on the trigger. "Now, move."

"Non."

_BANG!_

Villon dropped to the floor in a pink mist as a bullet shot right through his head. Sniper took out another man as Engie and Spy killed the other three before the poor bastards even had a chance to register that Villon was dead. With all five men dispatched, Spy turned to Sniper with a quirked eyebrow.

"Wot? I don't _like_ dragged out standoffs." He continued forward and Engie followed behind him.

"He has a point." Medic shrugged. Spy shook his head and jogged after them, jumping over Villons corpse as he went.

"So ... Leon?" Spy side glanced at Sniper as they ran along the corridor.

"What?"

"That's yer name, then?"

"Oui. Do try to keep it to yourself once we get back."

"Lee-_ounnn_" Sniper exaggerated the pronunciation in a bad French accent and laughed at himself.

"Ya'll used to be against killin'?" Engie chuckled at that. "Hew-Boy, what the heck happened?" Spy groaned as his three teammates began to snigger.

"A conversation for _another_ time, perhaps. Come on."

"Right behind ya, Lee-_ounn_."

* * *

_Sooo, I'm not dead or anything! Just been fighting crime and stuff for the past three months, you know the usual. Still, I do apologies for the long hiatus – but look – an update! More to come guys, I promise! ~ FtC_


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